making space

i'm trying to wrangle the mess that's built up in my apartment for several months into something decent. i'm trying to be present and take the time i need to do things. i quickly realized that i'm not going to be able to post something every day, but i can post a little more frequently than i used to.

i try to make this public act of journaling something worthy of being read by anyone (not just friends, but thank you to those who do). i want to be honest as hell about what i'm going through or thinking of, but undoubtedly it's a little weird to do so because i'm not always feeling good as hell (i'm looking at you, december 2019).

let me tell you about the cat i met today. she's a sweet, friendly, snowshoe cat and she needs a new home because her owner travels too much. i've been thinking about getting a companion for moxie for years now, ever since mango passed (3 may 2015). what's holding me up? i've asked myself that for a while now. let's go macro with this: what holds me back from anything? from moving to a new state, or changing jobs, or adopting a cat? finances aside, one aspect of this is a personal battle with fear of failure. i fail ALL THE TIME at things. large or small, and i'm still moving forward.

this post is meandering--there is still much cleaning to do--but i think the answer is coming soon. i will know soon, and maybe i will write about it. soon.

p.s. it is interminably difficult to enjoy writing (or other things) when i'm staring at a to do list.


day two

today was work, then yoga. the yoga is new. i like it and will do more of it. it centers me.


hindsight, et. al.

today is the first day...
hindsight is...
the early bird...
treat others...
if you can't say something nice...

whatever you're thinking of this day and its significance, i can assure you that a) i am too and b) i want to reject all of it. why wait until the calendar tells us that a day is meaningful? but also, why not do something since it is the first day of the month/year/not-so-roaring twenties (don't write me about this decade v. not a new decade nonsense because i couldn't care less)? 

i want to do something different. i always talk about wanting to do something different and, like a character straight out of waiting for godot, i do not move, immobilized by how overwhelming it will be to get to that thing, or how expensive it is, or how it feels impossible to get there on my own (reminder: divorced, one cat, one piano, pounds of books and a couple of bookshelves [one i helped build last year, one i've had since i was 19] <--this is me). that ends here, i want to declare. this is the year i get shit done. (this is a terrifying assertion.)

i will try to write something everyday, because writing is important to me. this might be a foolish promise to make. i think i will try to write here, because why not? let's see how it goes.