Monday

I hear it's supposed to be warm out there, but I'm chilly. It's really Friday for me (I don't know, I have to find a better way to keep track of time now that I'm back working on weekends). This morning has been a fog. A cold shower, thanks to the fact that I have quests in the house. What can you do. Not the world's best water tank. The grass is growing so fast, and we'll have to mow soon. The lilies of the valley are at their peak, and lilacs are just starting to fade. The honeysuckle is putting out blooms; grandma wanted it cut down last year because it was blocking her view of the water. It sprang back, though.

This time last year I had planted a garden for mother's day, enjoying the feeling of the dark earth and the new hopeful plants. Not all of them made it, and watering wasn't my strength, but I'm pleased to see some of them come back -- the little lavender I thought was a goner, the bleeding heart that makes me think of my mother.

We're so close to the start of the season. It's nice that the phrase doesn't send chills down my spine the way it did when I was still working at PCC. Every day there are more cars on the road. All the little stores up and down the main roads on the Cape are planning and plotting for the summer, hoping that this year will be better than last, will break records. There's so much energy at the start of the season, and so much exhaustion at the end. In my head I can smell sunbaked sand and ice cream drips. I can smell freshwater ponds and dried out grass and hear the slow buzz of a fan.

I think -- I think I may be looking forward to it.

Sunday

Feeling a little rocky today; when I woke up and looked at my face in the mirror I gaped for a long time. I don't think I've ever gaped before, but I looked bad enough to warrant it -- puffer-fish face. Oh well. I'm at work and after a busy first hour I suspect the rest of the day will be quiet; I'm working on learning photoshop and remembering how much I love this process of learning. Anything, really. With motivation provided by someone else -- I always enjoy learning things, but often lack the motivation to do so without a prod or two.

I miss being in school.

It's my Thursday.

Must finish reading Ulysses! When I finish my current book it's back to that and no diversions. That's that.

Saturday

It's 70 degrees out. Almost all the trees are in bloom, lime green pops of color everywhere. On my way home from Mashpee most days, I see one oak tree that hasn't leafed out fully yet. Instead, the clump of last year's brown leaves gather in the shape of a mermaid, overlooking the road like the figurehead on a boat.

How melodramatic everything I write today seems! Gosh.

Today is my Monday, and like any Monday I woke up with a touch of the blues. I couldn't sleep last night, too wrapped up in the worry of what I had to get done today. Worse, I didn't have enough energy to just get up and get stuff done right then and there. You know what it's like when you're drifting into sleep? You can almost feel yourself dropping deeper and deeper, layer after layer. I was stuck somewhere in the middle -- half asleep, but I couldn't go any deeper. I got more and more irritated...

And then morning. And rain, and grey, and a long work day wherein I felt good sometimes and sometimes not. And now I'm clear longing for sleep in a lustful sort of way. AS YOU DO. And trying to type my way out of a bad mood. And thinking about how I wish I still had the imagination I used to -- where I could lose full nights telling myself stories. I keep dreaming of it, and talking about it, and nothing happens.

What to do.

Some things on my mind.

-I love the rain and the gloom but I can't help but feel that very-human thrill of happiness when I wake up to sunshine streaming in the window. What doesn't give me a thrill of happiness is when the birds nesting above my window deliver a wakeup birdsong at 4 a.m. by perching on my (open) window and exchanging the morning gossip. Listen, birds, this is not a Disney movie and I'm not feeling very inclined to burst into song. Additionally, I look ever so much NOTHING like Princess Aurora at 4 a.m. Life: Not a Disney Movie. Who knew.

-I like the fact that my new coworkers are also creatives in their personal lives. Sound engineers, musicians, photographers, artists -- it makes me feel more creative in turn. I still miss some of my old coworkers, though.

-This evening Baxter and I trotted to the bogs for a quick walk, and boy were the Osprey pissed off. Normally they'll be disturbed that you're near their nest and start patrolling until you get a decent distance away, but today they swooped over us over and over again, almost the whole way home. I hope that doesn't mean someone's been messing with their nest. I love osprey. They are truly fierce birds.

-There was an interview with Pogo on NPR this morning, which made me very happy indeed. Gosh I love Pogo.

-I like saying gosh.

-It's cold tonight, cold enough that i have a couple of blankets on my bed and Baxter is curled into a small ball.

-that's it

-for now!

Every Step is Moving Me Up

It was already hot in my bedroom when I turned over to the alarm at 6:30. Time to drag out the fan and put the flannel sheets in storage. Time to leave the windows open wide all day and daydream of floating on the pond on a perfect summer afternoon. Not my pond, though -- sitting duck for eels and crabs and snapping turtles and the occasional belligerent goose.

It's the middle of April. My birthday is Saturday. And suddenly I feel like I put a foot on the right path, instead of trundling along blindly. I had a dream Friday night where I was a heroine, brave and strong, smart and quick thinking, protective and loyal. Normally I wake up feeling sad after those dreams -- is that who I have the capacity to be, if I only tried? But this time I decided that is who I am going to be (although without the vampire slaying -- with PIECES OF PAPER with CHEMICAL COMBINATIONS written on them. It is very odd, the things your brain puts together).

On April 30th I start a new job. I'm leaving Party Cape Cod feeling like I did a great job, and on good terms, but I'm so excited for this new opportunity. The best part for me is the reclamation of time -- I'll be able to float on the pond this summer with a bare minimum of thought about work clouding my mind.

Every step is moving me, moving me up.

Bad mood.

Yesterday, unable to resist Baxter’s dancing excitement, I took a walk in the woods. First around the bogs, which had been flooded recently enough that the air smelled of fresh water ponds and sun baked sand. Then to the herring run to see if the fish were back to spawn (not yet) and then through the woods themselves where the trees were covered in buds, so close to leafing out. It smelled pleasantly of rain and green and I was grateful to the heavy pine cover for keeping me dry.

All the way there and back I lectured myself. I have a lot of things that need sorting in my life, I told myself, not least of which is the whole life plan thing. As the season approaches I’m already drowning in work, and it’ll only get worse and so I’m feeling a bit tired and a bit sad and a bit overwhelmed. “What you need is discipline,” I reminded myself firmly. As if it was easy as that. “What you need to do is figure out what you really want.”

Well, what do I want? A place to call my own. A kitten. A job where I can feel both creative and competent. And valued. A community I feel a part of. A healthy social life. 8 hours of sleep every night. A yard I can plant in. Some security. Sunny days. Time to sun at the beach. Time to swim in the pond. Time to hang out with my family. I want to feel like I’m fulfilled. I want to be creative – write and draw and listen to the best music all the time.

It’s just the weather, I told myself. The grey chilly damp that descended on Sunday, the way it was hard to tell if it was mid morning or mid afternoon. “You just need some discipline.”

"You gotta do it yourself; you have to work to get there. You're the only one who can do it." I continued to remind myself. "You have to figure out what that means and finally do something about it."

I'm a good lecturer. I'm not good at figuring out the next steps.