Even though only a few of my goals have been attempted, I feel no shame or disgust at the lack of commitment I so often have and am now having to goals. I think goals in general are a way for me to get my butt moving, in an all-around way, or maybe to attack something specific for a while and then feel accomplished, but they aren't really a means to get themselves accomplished. Kind of like the 10 Commandments.
This time that I have now-a-week is beautiful. Even the stresses living on my own presents--ants, cockroaches, preparing more than one food item at a time--these things are fun. They fulfill "living on my own"; those are the things I was excited about because it would serve as "see? I really AM independent!" Of course I am not completely. But in all forms, I will never be.
Even these stresses...last night I had a dream that I was in the supermarket with Amanda and she pointed out some bagels--packs of three. And I was so upset, "packs of three?!" I cried, I was so worried when in real life I had bought a pack of six bagels, the smallest I could find, worried they would go to waste and I would waste money on them. And here there was a pack of three, three bagels, all along. How infuriating! This was all in my dream, but I believe dreams reveal things, affirm things. More reassurance that I am worried about running out of money for food. Money worries me in a masked kind of way, in a way that I spend it fervently but grow increasingly panicked in spurts during the week, very uneven.
Candace is here for a week--a week which is almost up, sadly. I have placed on her the crown of inspiration to me and she never ceases to polish it on top of her now lushly stubbled head. I am proud of you Candace!
I have decided that, for me, crushing is like sneezing: it pops up all of a sudden, builds to an intense climax, and resolves leaving me feeling refreshed and accomplished. Although I never
say "excuse me" for crushing.
Floating on the breeze,