June 4th, 20:42 | Slow band-aid-pulling house-move

I believe this is the third time I've tried to write this entry. (And no, it had nothing to do with technical glitches.) This is the first time I've just been able to sit down and get it out. The cloud of lethargy I was so happy to finally get out from under appears to have settled itself firmly over my head again. Fucker.

I'm not really sure what it is. It might just be tonight (but I don't think so). I'm exhausted. Granted today was a kind of activity day at Workplace (and hey, my GameMaster's new roommate's teaching me to juggle with other people!) so it's understandable, but I just feel like my base energy level is lagging. I eat more, but do less and naturally, I'm feeling sluggish. It's really getting to me; I crave physical activity. I just keep putting the catch-all "once we're moved into the new place" on every single activity, every single change I want to make. I'm fucking sick of waiting. (Thankfully the move is next Wednesday.) I'm very afraid it'll turn into "once I'm unpacked/settled in" but I'm also determined not to let that happen. (Well, I am right now, anyway. We'll see what happens in a week, neh?)

I hurt. My house is stripped of paintings and decorations. Some of the larger pieces of furniture have been given away. We had the last real fire I'll probably see for a long time, and certainly the last one here last night. I feel homesick, and achy and don't want to deal with leaving the place I've lived my whole life, even though I always knew I'd have to. I guess even then I always figured I could come back. It's strange to think of relocating Home Base.

I hurt. Not being with the Boy is getting harder. I couldn't fall asleep for... some amount of time? last night because he wasn't there. It's a pangy, achey, yucky feeling, and I'm wondering if it's not just exacerbated because of the house thing. It might be. But it scares me since I really, really need to pull it together for this final year in school, and he'll still be WayTooFuckingFarAway, and he'll need to focus too. Sometimes I want to just say "Fuck the schooling". Just hit up Workplace for a job (they'd hire me), transfer to Ottawa and live with the mediocrity so I can be with him. Always. I'm achy-fighting back tears sometimes because I miss him so much and just want this all to be over so I can start Forever with him. God that sounds sappy. I know I couldn't though. I'd be unhappy, and he'd be horrified and disappointed in me. Still. I feel that way sometimes.

I hurt. I feel that I should have time for my friends, but never seem to manage to really spend any with them. I don't understand where all my time is, when they're so much busier than I am, but still seem to have it all together. I have no concept of how to handle this "time" thing, it seems. I don't write return letters to people. I don't do small things that would be so easy. I wonder why they still talk to me (those that do). *sigh* I've taken to eating multi-grain cheerios again. I'm back to my habit of eating all the rice, oat and wheat ones, and leaving the bran (barley?) and corn to last.

I hurt. I have nowhere to release anymore. With barely the energy to pour into my blog anymore (jeebus, who doesn't even have the energy to rant ferchrissakes??) I still drag my ass to yoga on Tuesdays hoping for a little oasis of energy, or at least mental "stillness". On the good side, my flexibility is returning (woohoo! pigeon posture!) and yesterday I had a great stretch. On the down side, my instructor is getting preachier and preachier. Which would be fine normally (I mean, isn't part of why people sign up for other fitness classes so their instructors will yell at them and whip their asses into shape?) except that she's going on about lifestyle stuff. And yesterday, that just so wasn't what I needed. I mean, it doesn't affect me personally. The only thing she can really lord over me is my heathen meat-eating ways, but there's no way she's going to change that about me, especially not over the course of 12 weeks. My point is that I go there to escape judgement. I go there to just kind of hang out with Me, with a little guidance on her part for how to focus. What I do not need is for her particular brand of How Everyone Should Live Their Life to be shoved down my throat. If we remember, dogmatic intolerance has to be the biggest of the four major things that piss me off. The one chance a week I get to really relax, I don't want to have to practice deep breathing just to not take my instructor's head off. You know what I'm saying?

Anyway, enough of that. As you might have noticed, my "June is the month for creative profanity" thing never really took off. What can I say? The words "fuck" and "ass" are too useful to me in my communications for me not to pay them hommage (femmage?). I mean, there was the occasional attempt while at work (yeah, you try yelling "Great squids of Quirm!" at work and not drawing weird looks and people muttering about you) but on the whole? Can't do it. Ah well. I'll worry about it when I have kids.

...I just used the word "when", didn't I? Ye gods. Some days I might only feel 17, but some days I swear I'm looking 32 straight in the eyes. But. I'm not going to worry about it for now. I have a list that needs making up, of things I need to get done... as soon as we're moved.

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