February 24th, 10:15 | In flux

Feeling weird and domestic today, which I guess works out okay, since I'm working from home again. It must be the sunshine or something that sends me all muzzy-headed into a weird shuffly state where really I just want to putter around the house, not doing much. That's not normal in 24-year-olds, is it? Also not normal? Varicose veins. I've got to just stop paying attention to these things when I shower. Ew.

So, I've recovered from my shameful dismissal and am actually feeling slightly better about the whole thing, thanks to my parents and/or everyone I know reassuring me that It's Not Me, I'm Lovely, It's Vile Tutorling. I don't really believe that can be true, especially since she was really sweet most of the time, but I'm over it. (Mostly.) I have vague plans for advertising my services in my building this time, and actually had an idea this morning to start making up some exercises beforehand so I'd have something to work from should any student-y type be unfortunate enough to fall into my clutches.

Personally, I think I just really wanted another excuse to make myself another binder.

I've been feeling the desire to create something (that's not a ferchrissakes binder) again this past week, create a scrapbook page, or draw something, anything really. I think I'm fixated on my historic inability in the visual arts arena, and I'm undergoing a need to prove to myself that I can do something that isn't total ass. Of course, predictably, I've been kind of shuffling around thinking about it, but not actually doing anything. Honestly, I totally admire all those crazed artists who just busted out the materials and slapped ideas down on canvas (or whatever). I admire their get-up-and-go, their ability to just get on with it. I'm envious of the desire to express themselves that drove them.

Lately, I've been in this weird sort of mood where I feel I need to finish up with the things I have before acquiring similar new things. Examples:

Books. I have this whole "no buying books until I've finished all the ones I own but have not yet read" thing going on, which I am totally sabotaging myself with by borrowing ten (count 'em, ten) books from the library. (But hey! They're all child psychology books, so that's still okay, right?) I honestly don't know how much longer I can keep up this "no used book shopping" thing for, even though I know it's probably a good thing.

Soap. We've already been over my recent move to shun further good-smelling, girly shower goos, in favour of using the 8 million tiny soaps I already own. This trend has now also extended itself to my shampoos/conditioners. I suppose I should just say there's a general "bathing accessory" purge going on, here.

Makeup. It's not like I really ever wore that much, but I'm not even buying the cheapass $1US/thing makeup I used to for fun. And I'm totally throwing out the stuff I know I don't use. It's almost eery, really. The other day, I had this revelation where I would just throw out all the makeup I have, buy myself a palette of generic pinks and browns (for work-type looks, as if I ever wear makeup to work) and then buy any other fun colours individually as impulse-shopping or necessity dictates. I haven't done it. Yet.

Breadisms. I am totally not allowing myself to bake for fun without finishing prior baked goods these days. The state of our freezer irks me. (I threw out my mom's frozen blueberry waffles (3 out of a packet of 8 consumed; since July of last year) in a rage because they were gross, freezer-burned, and never going to be finished.)

Clothes. Well, with clothes, it's a little different. In fact, it's kind of the opposite. I hang on to clothes desperately until their last thread because I really hate shopping. This has meant threadbare t-shirts, tanktops that slip off my shoulders every 4 seconds, socks that, really, need to just be thrown out, etc. So lately, since I've gotten into this weird headstate where I actually think I need some clothing items (notably: a leather jacket, beige-ish cords, more socks), it's like I'm refusing to even passably entertain the thought of shopping for them until I'm sure I've thrown out all my raggedy crap clothes, so I can see what I *really* have left to work with. (I've been very good about hucking out the socks, especially with my mom's random cool socks purchase for me last weekend) but I'm not so good about the t-shirts. I know, I know! I'm trying!

So that's that. I don't know. I've been... what's the word? Like "toying" but a more serious version? Well, I've been seriously toying with the thought of moving to be with The Boy (Formerly and Now Once Again Known As The Boy) and the decision was a lot easier to make than I thought it would be. I mean, it's not like I'm uprooting myself next week or anything; I still have schools to wait on, and loose ends to tie, and all that sort of jazz. But aside from all the logistic details, in my heart and most of my head, the decision's already made. So everything in the meantime really just seems like so much busy-work, so much time-wasting until we're in the same city. It's a weird state to be in.

It seems anti-climactic to write it out that way, but that's not really how it feels. It was just such an easy decision to make because it feels right. It feels like something we should have done in the first place and now, two years later, I am miraculously getting the chance to see how things might have been instead of the way they were.

So I guess it's a little like time-travel. Except that now I have a job, henna'd hair, and (apparently) varicose veins. Hot.

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