" Cross-indexing every weatherman's report"

Does the not being able to have actually create the wanting?  Do I only notice the wanting when it goes unsatisfied?

I cried on Light today, for three hundred reasons, most of them deeply personal and selfish and I felt(feel) like I should be concentrating on the macro rather than the micro.   I spend so much time trying to train myself out of bracing for the next bad thing, trying to convince myself the world doesn't work by some law of contagion, I don't get acquire more bad things by having had bad things already happen.   There's no economy of misfortune, where those who have get, and slipping into this amorphous jumpiness feels like backsliding.  

 

Once upon a time, I was having a conversation with Chile about college, and she related something someone had told her, about how she wasn't comparing her experience to one other person's, but instead to the ideal parts of six or seven other people smushed together, so she was always going to feel like she hadn't measured up.   I measure myself up against these aggregates all the time.  I want this other person's living situation, this other person's passion for their career, this other person's partners, this other person's calm, this other person's sense of community, and I think I'm somehow f(l)ailing because I can't figure out how to make myself acquire these traits.

 

Sometimes, I can't even begin to figure out what I want.  Sometimes I can create these huge lists of tangibles that I think could make a whole.  Sometimes, I know that I have most of everything that I want, and while I'll always be hungry for new experiences, new people, more books, more skills, more tea, more small furry animals, I have a pretty sweet life.   But trying to think about the asylum gig, being filled by a longing to share the food Light and I made for dinner (apple curry soup and samosas), creating a fetlife profile, all make me wonder if there's some better, calmer way to get from here to someplace where I feel more a part of the larger world.  I wish could ask people "so, i want someone like you in my life, but available, what do you suggest?"  I wish I could cut all the qualifiers out of how I talk, all the maybes and it's likely that's and I think I's.

The weather's changing.  The windows are open, and it's deliciously cool rather than turn-the-heat-up cold, I've got a new parasol, I'm filled with that low level hum of being attracted to half of everything and that slightly congested feeling from being allergic to what feels like all the plants.   I wore skirts without tights this week, and I'm pretty sure I'm about to tempt the capricious gods of weather by bringing my winter coat to the dry cleaners.

 

It's Saturday morning, there is a seriously pissed off bird in the tree in front of my house, I've got the windows open, and we'll rock this thing.  We'll go to Sherman, maybe to Craftboston, to Hands and Hips.  I'll cross-stitch, give some serious thought to whom I'm trying to become, and how I'm getting there.  I'll try to talk through separating the feeling that I'm doing all this unseemly capering for attention I'll never actually get from really enjoying the people in my life and not wanting my enthusiasm about them to at all wane.