Deviant Dispatches

Today, it is beautiful out. The sun shines on the side of the building, and I can imagine the warmth of the brick. I imagine from my desk the feel of heat radiating outward, warming my perpetually cold hands. I imagine sitting in my new house a week from now, with that same sun shining on me in the tea room as I curl up in a blanket, surrounded  by boxes. I imagine the bitter wind that comes wrapped in spring sunshine, a package deal. Its bite surprises, vicious in the face of such warmth. After the cold of months past, it is bare by comparison, but I keep my winter coat handy for a few more days. How is it possible, this comfort and this chill that makes me curl up on myself? How do they coexist so readily, so constantly, so wordlessly? I try to envision that balance in myself, to embody yin and yang. It must be there already, because what can exist without both? But I've turned a blind eye to evidence in the past. I've been known to ignore fact and contemplate my own fi...

This morning is going to be trying. The kitties are going to the vet for a check-up, and last time I had to take them, Oberon wet himself in the two blocks to the vet. This time we're going to a vet we like better, who is farther away, but hopefully it will mean better comfort for them overall. Regardless, it's hard to hear them meow at me from within their carriers like I'm driving them to Auschwitz. So zen and peace is a good way to start the day. Source

Over the weekend, I had to do relatively little, and it was wonderful. There was Star Trek to be watched (though not enough), a museum to visit, a devastating Packers game to watch, and a few errands to do. I got to read more than I have in quite a while, and when the TV was on, I managed to quell my desire to multitask - instead, I just sat and enjoyed. Unfortunately, at the end of yesterday night, I was thrown nearly into a panic and rushed around the house tidying like a cyclone in reverse. It was a feeling that if I woke up to a messy apartment, I would turn into a puddle of emotional goo; it was the proverbial straw ready to break my back (...okay, I guess I'm the camel in this metaphor. That's fun.). A clean apartment would keep me sane, and the cleaning process would calm my meltdown from Chernobyl levels to oh-crap-this-cheese-is-moldy levels. The thing is, the apartment wasn't even that messy, and at the end of it, I hadn't crossed off anything on my to-...

July has been rough. I won't be sad to see it go. Nothing terribly big has made me feel this way; it's been the little things, one after the other. At times like this, I'm incredibly grateful for Spousal Unit, and to have the ongoing project of my novel to work on. Knowing that at least one part of my day will be the same has been very helpful and reassuring. On days when I'm upset or discouraged, I've started saying to myself, "Let it be fuel for the fire, but let it be the right fire." I accept whatever I'm feeling and put it to work for me, using that energy toward my plan to become a self-sustaining author. Then I don't waste time endlessly grinding my gears and getting nowhere. (Or I waste less time, anyway.) Which leads me to the update. I've finished reading the whole thing, beginning to end, and taking notes. I wrote down the facts that I included about each individual character, each city, the storyline as a whole, the timeline, ...

Lately, these have gone by too quickly. I blinked and March blew away in a wintery haze. I sighed, and the first few days of April vanished. I've been looking forward, forward, so much lately that time is passing unnoticed, and I didn't realize it until a month had disappeared. Each moment is a memory, and I've been forgetting to enjoy, to savor, to bask. I want to remember more sunsets.