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Some positive spin on Mercury Retrograde.  To sum up her long article: “Which makes the truth of the Mercury retrograde matter really quite simple: the trivial frustrations we’re forced to deal with when concealed information comes to our attention always pale in comparison to the intellectual power that becomes available to us whenever it does. Always. ”  So I will take that as part of my current meditations being timely and run with it.

Last night as I was falling asleep, I imagined that I was a potted plant.  Left too long in a too small pot, my roots became bound, knotted and crushed.  Watered both too often and too little at varying times, my leaves flourished and withered, grew stunted and strange.  I was unceremoniously yanked from that pot, with no thought to the injury of my leaves, crushed and broken by gripping hands, no thought to the tearing and breaking of my roots as they stuck to the sides of the old pot.  Eventually I was replanted in a larger, perhaps too large, pot, filled with good, organically rich soil, but yet still watered too much or too little by varying turns and left in burning sunlight and dark corners at random intervals.  Eventually I found myself where I am now: strong enough to bear the elements, water and light, whether too much or too little and only just discovering that I can start reaching my roots out in to better, more nutrient soil.  Only just now realizing what that will mean to the growth and spread of my leaves.

This morning I’ve been thinking too much and I think it’s fair to say that, that as we creep up on May, I have cried every day for two years now.  For every day that I haven’t cried, there’s been another day that I’ve cried twice.  I’m letting all of that go.  Over 700 days, it’s hard to imagine what even kicked off each of those teary instances.  Each one floats away like cherry petals on the wind today.

I worked roughly from 6:30 am to 2 am yesterday at both my jobs, with only a two hour break in between.  Both jobs were relatively intense.  And that’s pretty much all I have to say about my day except that Hawthorn very slightly slighted me at the end of the day and pretty much ruined my day.  Meaning that even exhausted and desperate for sleep I got to stay up and think about why my feelings were so hurt over something so seemingly minor. And yet again we get to play a round of Hawthorn is selfish, insensitive, and thoughtless.  I’m still not over that.  And probably I never will be.  But I am TIRED of replaying that story of our past in which I own all my decisions about how we ended up together, all my choices.  But you know he worked really, really obsessively hard to help me decide to take all the paths that led to me giving up everything thing about my life and all of my plans for the future.  And then of course he ripped all that out from under me when he broke up with me.  Blah blah blah blah, I am tired of it, just had to sit through another teary evening of mentally rehashing it.  Grrrrrrrr.

Going today to have lunch with Violet and walk outside in sun and warmer weather (wheeeeee). And hit up World Market and maybe a thrift store.  Since I have to start thinking about furniture and curtains and such. Because I am going to look at a seemingly PERFECT apartment tomorrow morning.  I have my financial ducks in a row, so I can write a check right away if it works out.  Neighborhood is good, place looks crazy cute in pictures and the price is exactly what I’d hoped to pay, so keep your fingers crossed for me that it works out!  I found it by accident and things feel like they are RUSHING along, but sometimes the universe just gives you what you need right?

Okay, maybe it isn't quite this cool, but it could be!

Speaking of need, my favorite rich, generous customer came into the restaurant last night.  Have you ever had someone shake a $100 bill into your hand? After they’ve paid their bill and already generously tipped?  I think he does it as his own form of charity, but man I work in bar that serves $7 glasses of wine at the high end.  I will take his charity (also I know he really likes me, his wife made me a scarf a couple years ago!) gladly right now.  I’ve set it aside to buy something perfect and MINE for my new place when I get it (which with any luck at all will be soooooooon).

Off to cure my headache with Bún thịt nướng and girl talk and sunshine!

I have been feeling for a while like the interesting parts of me are fading away.  Or I’ve been losing pieces of myself.  And I have to say that writing and talking has, even in this short time, REALLY helped start to turn that around.  At least now I remember that I like words and I can use them and make things out of them.  Things committed to ‘paper’ become tangible in the untangible parts of the world.  I write, therefore I am.  I write, therefore I will become more.

I am hungover today from crying yesterday.  I hate crying, like really hate it.  The tears, the snot, the blotchy redness, the puffiness.  It seems like the dumbest evolutionary thing possible.  When we’re really upset we spew gross fluids so we can’t see see or properly articulate anything and if we do it too much/too long we throw up (or is that just me?).  How, as a species, is that useful to us at all?  I should try and make it useful to myself somehow.  Like put $5 in savings every time I cry (not just tearing up, but outright crying) and then eventually I can tattoo the help out my back or something, as I’m sure there’s still more crying in my future.  *sigh*

Hawthorn has been trying to help his 18-yo son solve a problem and yesterday morning he said to me, “[My son] has two perfectly capable parents willing to help him, to do anything for him, and he won’t even ask until it’s utterly desperate.”  Hmmm, who does that remind me of? Myself.  It was, perhaps, a tiny reminder from the universe that I do need to be focusing on and practicing asking for help when I need it, when it’s easy, before it becomes desperate. Along with yesterday’s reminder in therapy that it’s okay to upset people, protecting them from how I’m feeling doesn’t solve anything. Though I think I am really doing the best I can in both of those aspects right now.  I’m mean it’s not like I can ask anyone to help me wipe up my snot.  I’ll just keep pushing on until it gets better.

I am feeling alright today, still lethargic and tired, but I think that’s the Lexapro more than anything else.  I have enough work to distract me for the day and, hopefully well into the evening. Still, my bright future seems slightly dimmed by today’s grim weather and it’s hard not wonder how much better my life could have been if I had been kidnapped by fairies when I played in that fairy ring in my front yard as a child.  I bet you can have all the cowboy boots you want in fairy land.  Even if they are just glamoured on.