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They are watching. They are waiting.

I've found what I want to make for Easter. These, right here. You can never have enough lemon. Of course, this means I need to access enough spending money this week to buy lemons, butter, and sour cream or yogurt. Here's hoping.

Speaking of money, I'm heading down to The Office tomorrow (for a local rental company) to sign up for spring/summer work. Cleaning apartments is a good way to make a little extra cash. You can set your own hours and you get to work by yourself or with people of your choosing. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who take up this opportunity around here, so that means you have to be on top of finding the next project that needs done and claiming it.

It's not a full-time job. It's a way to make ends meet when you're unemployed and living off student loans, though. And I might as well live under the rule that any work experience is good experience, because it's hard to find work as a baker for some reason. :( Speaking of which, I need to print out the application for the Village Bakery.

I've been feeling... like I'm just waiting for something. Waiting for something to happen or for something to click in my brain that makes me feel fully alive. I don't. I'm dragging my feet through the days. I find myself waking up and feeling like I'm always in that moment - six a.m. with the alarm blaring, crawling over my husband to get out of bed. I get dressed, and the dog bounds downstairs as soon as I open the door. I brush my teeth and pee. I take the dog out and make coffee.

Every moment feels like a moment I'm stuck in forever, and a moment I've always been stuck in. The only time I feel anything strongly enough to identify and enjoy is when I'm baking. It's an effort to restrain myself from snapping at people, or finding the same old jokes annoying, or trying to figure out why so much just grates on my nerves. I want to start a blog where I talk about baking... but I don't feel like I'm prepared enough for that kind of... commitment to an audience.

I want to tell stories and write novels and poetry again. I want to be interested. I want to find a way to live by my standards are beliefs... but everything is so hard to examine, so vague and so muddled. I want to ask my therapist about prescribing Adderall, but I'm also really afraid that that'd just be a huge mess. But I keep having fantasies about being able to concentrate... dreaming about what it would be like to grasp hold of the meandering fug and write like I used to, think like I used to... how awesome it would be if cleaning were a ritual that calmed me, instead of a hassle that feels overwhelming and impossible. How wonderful it would be...

if we had the money.
if we had the time.
if we had the space.

It doesn't happen like that, though. I know you can't just sit around forever and wait for something to happen. You have to make it happen.

I'm gonna go ahead and blame it on the weather. I just miss spring so badly. It gives a freedom of movement that's hard to describe... but brilliant to experience.

I'll keep on keeping on for now. Store what extra energy I might have away for concentrated bursts of effort that carry us through.

We'll see.


Mar. 31st, 2013 01:22 am (UTC)
Oh goodness! Haha, thanks. Your journal looks like a lovely place - food pictures, and talk of voting and art and general stuffs. Plus your interests list looks awesome. :) I bet we'll make good journal friends.


Lady Chai

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