No, I'm not writing

And that disappoints me.
Disarms me.
Depresses me.
Angers me.

Scares me.

There are reasons. Of course there are reasons. I don't feel myself. My concentration is on other areas of my life. My creativity is going into the soap pot and not out of my fingers.

I've been dealing with some emotional things that have too long gone undealt with.

This is all true, of course. Sex is pretty far down my list right now though at least I'm 'taking care' of things around here /wink.

I'm going out of town this weekend and I'm really looking forward to it. Good friends, good fun. Relaxing. Laughing. Having fun. I need this. It's imperative to getting myself back to myself.

It'll get better.
It always gets better.

I wrote an email tonight that I hope I'll have the courage to send. It's hard for me, because I really don't enjoy upsetting other human beings. But the problem is, that for so long, I avoided that in the meantime ended up doing interior damage to myself.

No more of that.
No more.
No.

So as I keep telling you I'll be back, I really will be.
I have to be.

This is who I am.
And this is where I should be.

Silence

I had a little epiphany this weekend.

Some days, I hate those things. They're like gnats, buzzing around your head that you can't quite swat away. And then when you do smash one, and you think "HA! Got you!" you end up with bug goo on your hand and ...

Well you get the idea.

I'm not very comfortable with silence lately.

I am always doing something. Playing on the computer, doing something in the kitchen (creating stuff that smells good and that has no calories...ie, soap), watching TV (currently re-watching Buffy from the beginning on DVD...and no, I don't know why, I was in the mood), reading, taking notes in one of my ten thousand little journal things I have stashed all over the house, playing with my hair .... sometimes I'm doing two of these at once, sometimes more than two ...

I know that to be able to get started writing, I need to be able to sit in silence and create.

And I can't seem to get myself to do it.

I wonder what that means.
And yes, I probably will have an answer to that, and I'd have one even sooner if....


I could sit in silence and figure it out.

Long Weekend

So, I took Friday off. My fourth day off this year. /eyeroll. Gave myself a nice long weekend to get a lot accomplished around here, and I did.

I also started going back through old bath and body recipes, and found a few things I'd really like to make again. I have a huge stash of bottles and jars and such, and it seems a shame to pitch them, so I figured maybe I'd use them up. I don't have all the ingredients, but I'll get them eventually.

Last weekend, I made a batch of soap with a local winery's wine (local to my folks'). I'm not sure how it's going to turn out, but we'll see.

I had a list of 20 things to accomplish this weekend and by the end of the weekend, they'll all be done except ...

writing /sigh

I can't get there. I'm really frustrated by that.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, even though I am no longer a 'fat chick', 'fat chick' jokes still piss me off and I'll always find a way to pummel an idiot who makes them.

I've got a batch of soap to make today, and then it's off to scrub the kitchen floor. Fun times!

I hope you had a wonderful safe holiday weekend!