I am so excited for tomorrow! Not because of my alcohol awareness class. Not because of my haircut and highlights. Not because I get to see my dear mother and wish her a happy Mother’s Day. But because tomorrow is Saturday and I get to spend that day concentrating on getting things right.
It was a cold, rainy, miserable day, though I mostly had an easy time of it. Much easier than I thought considering how I’m trying to get a lot of things done early. It’s probably just as busy as I should be all the time if I just got to work and didn’t play about trying to ignore the fact that I have so much to do. Just kept moving even as everyone was hollering about the icy rain turning into snow, hollering as if Jesus or some other figure was standing in the street touching each drop individually to make that holy transubstantiation happen. Yes. Jesus, among other things, is played by Jack Frost in my daytime fantasies. Or Jack Frost is played by Jesus.
So, I kept myself busy enough not to mind the cold on my bare legs and my sock-less, sandaled feet and in the interim, read old posts on this blog. This caused me some joy and some despair, unfortunately, not in equal measure. But more than anything else, it bolstered my desire to return to 147. To do whatever it took to get there. But, darling, I have to combat vacation. Apparently, there are ways to do this. There are, certainly, ways to at least attack the idea of eating away from home with some sense of propriety and reason as opposed to this 10 day smorgasbord of orgiastic delight.
At the moment I think I’ve got it settled. I just want to feel committed. And I want to be making strides. And the only way I can possibly understand or express this feeling is to take actions. I got a load of laundry done and put away without some lengthy intermission where I start to question whether or not the laundry is clean. It smells so lovely. And I’ve decided on how I want to do my hair. And I’ve learnt about an unkindness of ravens. Little instances of humanity that I’ve cobbled together in the face of an overwhelming dismissal of hope.
Lately, everything’s been sliding all out of whack and working 11, 12-hour days is making it nigh on impossible to keep myself on track. Ahem, apologies for the rhyme. And I know I can dig in my claws and make myself do more. I know I can make a few things happen in advance of vacation and I need to shake a few devils off. Close a few tabs, as it were.
I am burning the white candle and I’m going to burn it down to the last waxy drop. I’ve had this candle for far too long. It’s time for everything to go with it.