Unexpected

You know, some mornings I really just would like to get up and walk to a new life. Especially on mornings like this when I think I have a few minutes before I need to go out and milk and then the dog starts retching beside me. As if that isn’t enough, she produces semi-solid grossness that no one else is going to clean up so I might as well do it so that it’s done. Then I sit back down, my mind still back in time when I had a few minutes, look at the time because I always write the time when I’m writing in a journal, which is what this is before I post it, and see it is now time to go milk. Can I just say that there are times when I just don’t want to?

Now, thirty-two minutes later, the goats are fed and watered and Zoey is milked. I’ve used the bathroom with Billy Idol in tow (which means I’m in there longer than I normally would be because I just have to get to the end of a chapter or at least paragraph). I’ve realized I didn’t put the milk away.

Now, eleven minutes later, I’ve decided to have spicy hot chocolate for breakfast and so it is on the stove now getting hot since I’ve done everything that needed to be done to get to that point.

And so it goes.

During those aforementioned thirty-two minutes, I went upstairs looking for the flannel shirt that I usually wear out to milk and feed goats. It keeps the hay another layer away from my skin and it keeps me warmer than without. As I walk into the bedroom, Paul says, “Yes?”

“Nothing,” I answer.

“Nothing?”

Yeah, nothing. I’m not looking to talk. I’m not looking for someone else to tell me where the shirt is.

I'm borrowing this picture that David posted on Facebook. If I could teleport, I would.

I almost want to say that that is what I want to do today: nothing. But it isn’t true. I want to do several things. I want to plant some seeds. I want to go to Auburn with Julia. I want to read more of Dancing With Myself. I want to go over more of my chapters. I want to ponder. I want to go letterboxing with Seth and Joseph.

A part of me does want to do nothing. It is that part of me that is tired.

I am tired of people criticizing others for behaviors and actions they themselves exhibit.

I am tired of the medical establishment doing its very best to discourage women and normalize artificial.

I am tired of trying to be something that I’m not. I am 48-years-old and I still feel that I’m living my life more for others based on what they expect rather than what I want and need.

I am tired of the constant stupid battles of life. Life is a battle but many of the battles are good because they lead to a better self. Those I can deal with because although they may lead to exhaustion, they are not the pointless battles for nothing.

Paul is tired, too. He does not like his job. He works for idiots. He would love to find another job. I would love for him to find another job. I would love for him to find a job in the west but I don’t think he wants to. Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t want to because he knows how much I want to go back west.

You know, I’m about one third of the way through Dancing With Myself and it has been a very good book for me. I always liked Billy Idol. In the middle of the big hair days, he had short hair. In the middle of the big hair days, I usually wore mine braided. Yeah, not really a lot of similarity there but he dared to be different in spite of insecurities. I dared to be different but not to stand out. Am I ready now?

This is absolutely not what I was expecting for today. I was wondering how on earth I was going to contain myself because there are so many thoughts running through my mind. There still are but I’m going to let them ferment a bit.

In the meantime, I hope you have a lovely day.