“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all”
It’s not that I have anything snarky to say lately, really I don’t, I just have little to say in general.
I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. Partially because I’m getting my ass kicked at work. Partially because I’m just tired. Partially because yet again, I’ve been handed a plate of steaming shit and I just don’t feel like dealing with any of it.
So, here it is Superbowl Sunday, and for the first time in 15 years (at least), I could honestly give a rip one way or the other about the game. I am working right now, bouncing between a few projects, sitting in my quiet house and trying to wrap my head around last month.
I should probably clarify something- the plate of steaming shit (oh the illustration) isn’t actually mine. I had the divine privilege of getting looped into someone elses nightmare over the past two weeks. Their crap touched my life on the periphery, but it impacted me greatly nonetheless.
I miss my big yellow dog a lot more than I ever expected to miss him. I guess I hadn’t been prepared for the sudden loss, and the reality that my shadow is not there leaves a weird, weird gap. My black dog is doing a most exceptional job coming to her new reality, but it’s me that is still left with the nightmares and sadness. I really really wish the nightmares would go away. It’s weird- If I nap during the day I’m ok, but about 2 hours into sleep at night, there they are, just like every other night.
Work is steady and calm. I needed the calm right now and am embracing it. Doing a wee bit of Sunday consulting and that is good too. Ok, in reality, I’m working 15 hours minimum days right now, but it’s really ok. Gives me something to focus on. Allows me to channel the nervous energy into something productive and good.
Trying a bit to reclaim the me. Colored my hair this week. Getting back to what I feel is a happy head place. (Yes, literally). Been on the yoga mat more than not this week. Laughing as my black dog joins me for down dog. She really makes me smile in the mornings. Before the sun comes up, we are off, doing a quiet walk to get us ready for the day.
The reality of my impending birthday is odd. I’m going to be 38 this year. 20 years post high school. 2 years away from 40. 12 years from 50. It is an odd age that I never really imagined myself to be. I never really imagined this life in general, and the specificity of 38 certainly was not included.
For my birthday, I’m giving myself some time. Some time to work out. More time on the yoga mat. More time to sleep. More time to do what I want to do. Sometimes that may mean that I just tune out socially for a while. It’s nothing personal, I just want time to putter doing my things. Selfish? Absolutely.
For my birthday, I want to give back more. I’m working on a new volunteer project and I’m rather pumped about it. It’s outside of my comfort zone, it requires physical labor and I am hoping to get started soon. Details to be shared when all is solidified.
I’m starting to plan a feast of sorts. More details to come. There will be a laughter, food and drinks. Right now, it’s quietly in the planning phase, and may never move past that, but it’s a smile worthy idea if nothing more.
So, yeah. I’ve not said a lot to anyone lately. It’s not for any particular reason than I just don’t have much to say. This will pass, and then I’ll need to find a muzzle.