(no subject)

I got praised (sort of) for boundaries.  Which is a weird fucking idea, I kind of assume I have awful boundaries, one of my partners had to make it explicit i shouldn't get in service relationships with organizations, I tend to think of myself as someone who accepts shitty treatment as something between her due and the cost of admission and I think of boundaries as things for people who have enough self-confidence to stand up and say magic spells like "no" or "this is not enough" or "I deserve better" and I still don't really think of myself as a person who has learned those incantations.

 

But maybe I'm old enough to be able to give fewer fucks, and that's a start.

I think I think of myself as someone who accepts what other people are willing to give, someone soft, someone too damaged to make demands who is trying to turn that into a superpower.  

Bespoke mentioned some facebook meme about small superpowers, and rattled off a list of four.  I've wondered intermittently since then if I have any.  BRCAs my mutant power, and I think that my body lacking the ability to deter tumor growth isn't exactly the intent of the thought exercise.   Maybe I can sit really still for tattoos?  I remember where most of the things I've touched are?  I light up enough at the sight of a dog that they can sense it from across the street?  I'm extremely underestimatable? I can imagine fourteen ways anything ever might go to shit?
 

I made myself breakfast today. Now, I've admitted to myself I'm catastrophic at eggs.  Don't know why, but never especially tried to change that, there usually seem to be people around who can cook eggs when I want them.  But, a couple years ago, I discovered that I vaguely remembered how to make matzo brei and that it was actually a kind of amazing day-after-a-migraine dish.  I don't remember who made it for me the first time, I think it was in college in a dorm kitchen and it was awful (mostly because of the fake maple syrup) but two years ago ti was the best thing ever.  And I made it, and promptly forgot about its existence.
 

This morning, (again a post-migraine morning) I remembered somebody (else) making me eggs scrambled with cheese and tortilla chips, and I don't remember who that somebody was and I made it for myself and it was also the perfect post-migraine food.  Like I want to make it for dinner as well.  (Abundance ended up making a chocolate blueberry dutch baby, which was also an awesome thing to have for dinner)

I don't quite have words for these feelings, or I have many words and I can't put them in the right order or filter them or figure out the appropriate audience.  But despite all that, it's still bedtime so I'm going to go lie in bed and fret until the ambien whisks me off.