"I tried to do handstands for you"

Well, I let this place get away from me.  It felt unsafe, and I realized that I either have to change my readership, my habit of posting unlocked or my way of posting and none of those felt good to me.  It doesn't help that my days all feel the same.   I don't do much, I don't think much, I read and play My Life at Portia and do homemaker things and feel guilty about not having an income.  

I've been into Stop'n'Shop twice since the pandemic started.  Because of surgery, I basically started my quarantine a month early (no driving or lifting for four-six weeks after 2/20).  At one point, this felt deeply unkind, back when it was double the amount of time other people had spent in quarantine.  But proportions are a thing and now it just feels a little sad. 
 

I've got this whole realm of my life that i'm just Not Talking About With Anyone, and I've been journaling solo, but much like I said before, I go dark when I journal for myself, and I suspect that hasn't been good for anyone, but it's mostly affecting me.

I switched from Trintellix to Lamictal, but no fatal rashes yet.  
 

After applying for 47 puppies only to be rejected either because we lived in MA or because there's a puppy shortage in the northeast, last Saturday we drove down to CT and received a puppy out of the back of a white hertz van in a parking lot.   She is tiny, black with a white blaze and socks that are lightly freckled and a white tip of her tail.  Her nickname has quickly become Rumpus, because she and Nonsense play together endlessly and so well.  (I learned the term jaw-sparring for the open mouthed way dogs play)  She was billed as a shepherd/lab cross, but has at least a little pitbull and now that Hips has pointed it out, a little hound around the ears.

I started taking two mile walks in the morning.  It started off exploring the neighborhood with Nonsense, but after she wrenched both my shoulder and my knee on two separate walks attempting to catch bunnies to play with, I started going solo.  I stopped exploring the neighborhood and started walking down towards Spot Pond.  I've even been posting a picture to Instagram most days, mostly of an interesting plant I find on the way.  It's replaced driving as audiobook time, which is lovely (i've discovered I walk faster when I'm mad at a book).  .

Since, we sold our other house, finally, we've been buying extravagant things like a clock from etsy, and a doormat that says "Hope you like cats".  I finally live in a single-family, which means I can put whatever fucking signage I want outside, and while I don't think I deserve a cookie for it, someday I'll be able to give the direction to my house as "the one with the pride flag".  

I'm still burnt out and avoidant of Primrose, I'm still weird and sad most of the time.  I feel like there's no way to rock a quarantine, and almost all the social connections that hadn't already withered in the previous two years are withering now and I keep meaning to send postcards and letters but stall out when actually confronted with blank paper.  I used to send SSG postcards all the time, with other people's poems on them, and it felt like a mixtape and I want that again but don't know how to get it. 
 

I go through spasms of cooking, making bunches of things I really enjoy and then just punting for entire weeks.   I've got morning glory oatmeal in the fridge, and the ingredients for five other dishes and at least one cake (i've lost the recipe for the chocolate cake that involved almond extract and am super-annoyed at myself), I've made Alton Brown's banana bread, and this amazing cold chickpea, feta and roasted red pepper salad.   I've abandoned my bullet journal and am trying to keep a running list of things I've done in a day (even if it's dumb) because it at least gives me the sense that even if a day seems a waste, it contained something).  

I lost one of my favorite earrings, believed that I'd killed the puppy because of course she'd swallowed it, found it a little later, unswallowed, and haven't convinced myself to put it back in.  Which is fine, I'm mostly dressing for comfort these days.  (I have a thing about saving clothes for the right occasion, and my partners already know I'm all about smashing the patriarchy and tiny cat believing in you).  I started quarantine intending to figure out a little more about eyeshadow, then quickly developed painfully dry eyes (thanks allergies) and haven't touched my collection since.  

 

I want to come back here, I want to find things to talk about.  I have no staying power any more, 90% of the habits I keep trying to start fall away.    My therapist told me to get on a website and start flirting with people and I logged into okc and instantaneously became actively miserable.  Life, you seem very lifey, have you thought about maybe trying a different difficulty setting?

(no subject)

Hiding the puppy behind a cut( puppyspam )