I'm sort of sick. Probably picked it up from N, my 3 year old friend, who I babysat this week.

Total culture shock by the way - nothing like moving to the burbs, and doing a commute, daycare, and parenting for a week to make you re - examine your own life. It's good to be back - back in the city, where I walk places, go get a good cup of coffee, and eat a good bagel. Connectedness is so important to me - having neighbors around who I know, having fun places to go in the neighborhood, being able to get from one place to the other without getting into a car.

So today, even though I was driving to the local branches of large chains, I am so grateful for where I live, and for the people I live with. I'll trade a fancier house any day if it means I live with people who like me, in a neighborhood that I like to live in.

Time for more advil - stupid fever.

Robots! Taking over the world!

My counselor has given me an assignment. I'm to set aside a non - weekend evening each week, not plan anything, and do only what would be most fun right then. Not work, not major projects, just fun.

God, how did I get to be such a robot?

Tonight is the first night. It's a little bit paralyzing. My mind is spinning from the heinous week at work and I catch myself looking to the weekend, wanting to get started on various projects, trying to catch up on things that I've let slide. Stop. This is play time.

What do I truly want to do tonight? Definitely not schmooze with housemates, I love them dearly but I'm tired, and don't want to deal with it. Dancing? Yes. Cuddles and laughter and sweaty bodies will happen there, that will be fun. But what about now? Music, this needs music. Pandora is playing, much nicer. But where to eat? Good grief,

This feels like when the ex - BF and I broke up. I would spend endless hours swimming around in my fishbowl, frozen, half heartedly choosing things, wishing that someone would decide for me again. Crap.

I'm feeling such empathy for teenyboppers right now - overprogrammed, overstimulated, texting/typing/talking/listening/tuned in/always wanting something to do. Maybe my time as a social outcast was good for something - I spent a lot of time doing what I'm trying to do now, diddling around, writing stories, drawing pictures, singing along with the radio, being painfully unpopular but making my own fun. Lord, let me know when my brain has been de - programmed. Sheesh.

And inhale...

I'm finally catching my breath long enough from the grantapplicationworkworkworkdancework danceplayshoppingworkworkworkdance rhythm to stop and post.

Many boring things have been happening, and a few fun things. Spring is starting to kick into gear (after it snowed on me last week), and I'm getting more yoga into my day, which feels so good, and getting not enough art done, which feels less good. I'm reconnecting with friends, and am already making plans for summer (Faerieworlds anyone?) that are *so good*.

Today, driving home from work, I was struck by the beauty of the blue sky, the clear yellow sunlight, and the warmth on my face after a long winter. Life is good.

What I'm listening to: Paul Van Dyk, "Reflections"

Goodness, somehow the last week got away from me.

I've been in the throes of the Greeting Card Death March, making about 50 in the last two weeks or so. Which is wonderful for the business, great for the pocketbook, but I'm finally catching up a little bit. Maybe it's all the fumes from the glue or the daylight savings change, but I'm a little tired tonight. Ate with the housemates, then did slow yoga, tried to calm my hamstrings enough so I could stand nicely. Sitting in that office makes me so tight, I hate it - I get off work and I hobble home, trying to make it until I can stretch them out again.

Many things have happened since my last post, but in general things are still the same. This year I'm working on expanding my social circle, meeting new people, trying out new situations. I'm having a lot of fun with this - going to parties, talking to new people. Dancing a lot.

I still have a ways to go - a big part of me is petrified that the rest of the body is out there trying to talk to scary new people in scary new places, but I'm trying not to pay attention.

License!

I can't believe it, I think I'm going to go throw up and pass out now. I did it - I just applied for my business license.

Wow.

What's amazing and truly fabulous about this is that this project has been in the works for upwards of 3 years. When ExBF and I got together, I was doing art - doing poetry, painting, doing little things, having a good time at that. And before that, I had dreams of actually finishing both the Zoology and the art degree - even though we all know how that one turned out. Then, about year 2 of being with ExBF, I started to realize that people would pay money for my work, and seemed to really like it. So I made more of them, put together an extremely lame - o website, and didn't do anything further with it. Somehow Real Life (tm) turned out to get in the way one way or the other - either I was dealing with a (then) BF crisis, or totally broke, or being convinced that I should go to graduate school. So it never happened, I moved my art supplies a few times, and then eventually threw them away.

Then, went to school, and I told my (fashionable and wise) friend that my Super Secret Plan was to become an artist and ditch all this public health stuff. She thought that was a good idea. I sort of blew it off, kept making art and not making any money at it, and totally buying into the idea that what I needed was a Real Job, and the business never happened.

Fast forward to last fall - my relationship was falling apart, I had a lot of time on my hands, and somehow I was able to hear that Yes, this was a good idea. Now sans ExBF, I have time, money, and space to work with, and things start to fall together.

Sure, I made an etsy site (not ready for public consumption yet), but it didn't seem real. Made my first sale. But today, today it seems real - I'm going to have a license. Yeesh.

Dandelions! Crocuses!

It's spring! It's spring!

Well, nearly.

For what it's worth, the dandelions are growing, the leaves are starting to come back on the trees, and the crocuses are up. That has to count for something, I guess.

I'm still sick, but dragging myself out of bed to work. Bleagh. Of course it doesn't help that what I really want is to a) quit, b) become a fabulously productive artist and c) get paid mucho moola to do it. I won't, though. I'm trying to stay focused, get that order for 36 cards done (just assembling the last of them now), and build it slow and steady.

Pity Party!

I'm back, from a great trip to the bay area to see a good friend. But now I'm sick, and sleepy, and cranky. Time to curl up in bed with a book, and pity myself.

I've always believed in the power of pity - it's so important to have someone (even if it's you) stop, acknowledge how horrible things are right now, and give you a hug. Very healing.