It feels kind of silly to sign on here only to say that I've had nothing to say lately. But the wordy part of myself seems to have temporarily taken shelter under other mediums and means of communication. (Or lack thereof.) I'm not sure how long she'll be away for, in spite of my efforts to coax her back.
All I can say is, Spring has been lovely thus far, as Spring tends to be (so long as you are willing to look past her occasional petulance, like you must with any loved one).
I've been battling, as usual, with what I've started referring to as The Ache of the Twenties. The one that asks from deep inside of my limited human frame, What are you doing with your existence?! To which I respond with a resounding, I have NO IDEA! But do I really have to right this moment? Is it really expected that I have it all figured out at 24? I don't think so. And so I carry on for another few days or weeks until the ache is back again, with her unruly demands.
What I am doing is following what moves me, whatever that may be at whatever given moment in time.
Whether that be buying a new record and blasting it through the house as I coat dirty dishes in hot water and suds. Whether that be taking a few moments out of my day to photograph some blooming buds in the front yard, or chasing down a sun set, or attempting a pastel drawing. Or sitting on my bed watching Grey's Anatomy for the umpteenth time with wet eyes and melted chocolate on my fingers as Drew, sincerely puzzled, asks, "Why do you watch this?"
I'm learning about what I'm interested in. By Googling it or bothering someone around me who knows more than I do to teach me. I love being taught new things by someone eager to share. It bothers me to no end when people get stingy about their skills, guarding their knowledge like rabid dogs growling over scraps of food. They act as if their skill was with them from the womb and we're all fools for not being the same way.
I have no patience for this behavior, no patience at all.
As usual, mornings are still impossible. Yet I continue to wake up, empty bladder, brush teeth, wash face, pick outfit, and run toward the door right as Drew gets out of the shower. The other day, he said something about how fortunate I am to get a naked hug from him every day. I swear, he's the only person capable of making me laugh before 10 am.
Customer service will never not suck in some way. "The customer is always right" means that 2+2=5 and logic mattereth not here. All I've really learned from these jobs is that people don't want to be helped so much as they want to be correct.
I changed my hair. Chopped a few inches and had it dyed all the same color again (not pictured), which took six hours altogether. The two-tone and I had a good run, but it was time for a change. Partly because the blonde side was just getting too damaged but also for another, more difficult-to-explain reason. I guess, in short, I want to focus on being seen as a sum of my works - my creations - instead of my hair color. I think I had been hiding behind extreme hair, sort of maybe. Does that make any sense?
Also, there have been many fried eggs in my life lately. For some reason that seemed noteworthy.
My, my, it seems like I lied about having nothing to say.