(no subject)

 Successes - I sent out four cards today to people I want to be in correspondence with.  I went out to lunch.  I did some housework.  I drove Light to work.  I broke down a bunch of boxes. 

 

I can kind of tell when the mood crashing is more chemical than situational.  Or at least feels more that way, I haven't been ramping up to this in any way that I noticed, I'm just, well, suddenly overwhelmed by choices I've made, choices I've yet to make and choices I don't get to make.

 

We're headed to Baltimore tomorrow for my next tattoo and I want so very desperately for it to be magical, for it to bring me back to myself, bring me back to a improved version of myself, bring me closer to whatever place it is I'm carving out by writing all these things on my body. 

 

I still wonder about people who have no tattoos, I'm still startled by the number of tattoo-less people at the gym, I wonder if they're so at home in their flesh they don't need to modify it, if they reject the idea or if it never crosses their mind.    And I know it's a process that's different for everyone, that it's not always someone trying to do magic to themselves.

 

I should be excited by first snow.  I should be pleased at how much I've unpacked.  I should consider any week I cook this much a wild success.  I should be able to remember how contented I felt the other day and dwell in that, rather than this.

 

I don't want to go to the Lindy West reading.  I want someone to bring me the doughy sicilian pizza from the place that doesn't do delivery and watch a comfort movie and snuggle a kitten and maybe feel a little bit like I'm throwing myself a pity party.  But maybe a disco nap will make me rally? theoretically I remember I'm almost never sad that I went out once I summon the actual out-of-the-house-ness