I saw a friend at Indiemade, the last show of the craft season for me and Jow. The week before, when not luxuriating in our full time day jobs, we had been pouring candles and making oils which always makes the house smell like a French whorehouse. We were squabbling and tired as we always are this time of year, me furiously hissing packing instructions over text and he crossly reminding me that he is not new to this business. She brightly asked what I had been up to. I tried to think as I vacantly smiled at clients who pawed the same goddamn scarf repeatedly without purchase. My book is done, my blurbs are in process so there’s no excuse for me there. I haven’t been blogging, as well you know. There has been no time to go anywhere really.
Just . . .crying and crafting, I said hesitantly. She smiled. I tried to think of something else to add, but there wasn’t anything really.
I haven’t had time to read, I’ve had no will to write much of anything and my inner manic pixie girl has been busy cutting herself to relieve the banality of her existence. My muse has been silent, too tired of me to even be angry.
We keep trying to remind ourselves, Jow and I, that all of this will be worth something. The 401K so maybe we don’t eat cat food as seniors. The health care for our bodies’ inevitable betrayals. The toll working a really full time job is taking on me. The exhaustion of school on top of his job. It’s hard to feel motivated here, deep in the woods. My book is not even out, so who knows if it will fail or fly. Not knowing if he will get into the nursing program at the end of this year. Not knowing if there will be jobs if he does. Not knowing if my rather small dream of being able to sustain myself from writing and crafting will ever be possible. We are striving for our future, that deep fathomless thing but mostly . . .
And there hasn’t been much to say. There hasn’t been much magic in these past few months. Not much glamour. Mostly fatigue. I don’t work a job where I have the luxury to blog or write when it’s slow, they are literally listening for the clacking of my keyboard to beat a different cadence than usual (which it always does, no matter how hard I try). The level of attention to detail that is required for this position is a crucible that is forming me into something, but I don’t know what yet.
But I’m trying. I’m trying to write to you here so that you know that I’m still here. I’m asking for source material to read about topics I’m interested in. I’m revisiting Young Adult Fiction writing. We cleaned and cleansed the house, post show for the first time in ages. We made offerings, did the goddesses’ dishes. I’m trying to find a practice that extends past, HERE IS A THING. OH! BTDUBS, I WANT A THING, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. We’re reading Gemma Gary’s new book. We’re trying to get politically active. I’m trying to be helpful on Facebook about that. I’m thinking a lot about what it means to be Other in this new world that’s forming around us. We’re going to Planned Parenthood meetings. We have plans to work on fundraising. I went to the saunas/baths last weekend with Vixxx. The chicken I tried to make for Jared betrayed me as it always does by being randomly raw for no good goddamn reason like it always does with him, much to his and Jow’s endless amusement. I’m a bit sick as usual, some nebulous stomach thing. I’m baking gingerbread. I made a whole roasted cauliflower with tahini sauce. A vegan power bowl with hasselback tiny potatoes. I’m trying to learn to make salmon so it doesn’t taste like cat food (no luck there yet). I’m trying to get to the gym, to the yoga studio. I’m out of practice, I gained ten pounds back so it hasn’t been really inspiring. I’m watching The Crown. I’m learning vegan recipes because as far as I can tell on Vanderpump Rules they live off of vodka and vegetables which doesn’t seem terrible per se. I’m getting back to my beauty regime. I’m listening to books in my car. I’m reading books again. We will have friends over for Jow’s birthday on Saturday and eat lots of italian American food. I am looking to get back to spinning. But mostly, as we get closer to the solstice and I become more unsure that the sun will ever return again . . .
I’m looking for a light of some kind.