one - oranges. and a pear. (three things, but the first of these two)
two - the universe might be trying to tell me that change is important. I’ve only very recently given up the thick(ish) covering plastic thing for my phone because it was scratched and difficult to type through and I’m only slightly more than a little retentive about the glass surface: fingerprints! NO!
now, my blue cup. here reassembled after one abrupt gravity suck too many. after fifteen years of where’s my blue cup? and no one else can use it for coffee because my blue cup.
maybe I need not only learn to drink out of another cup, it might also not come amiss to learn to embrace that other cup. or cups? drink around, try new things.
maybe I just won’t use the handle because it’s far too wonky.
or, maybe there’s another cup somewhere waiting to become the cup. the new cup. the cup I need it to be.
also a subset of change and more change:
things that make me angry. that have nothing to do with you lot and nothing to do with anything I can say. trying very very very very very hard to vision a steel rod for a spine and not a stick up my ass. to find ways to do what needs doing and to move beyond giving power to people who neither deserve or use it well.
to just get on with it.
like so many things: harder than it looks.
the moon last night, through my office window. the day was long. much purging of many things in the house that houses the office. during the break for lunch someone asks who’s been here the longest. I don’t hear the question but hear my name as the answer.
snow is just starting to fall now. subtly. sort of the taste of the thing you can’t name in the dish. in the food. in the something that someone made and you don’t know what it is but the taste of it all would be different without that small small bit of what it is the thing you don’t know, can’t identify. but this is very much identifiable: it’s small snow. it’s snow stretching against the lamp post before a big run.
I wrote a thing.
trying to know the good when it bites me on the ass, when I fall on it, when it simply is. else, why even?
will, adam and justina surrounding adam’s signature accessory, the chicken hat. worn as a special surprise.
also, adam’s mom gave his brother a fox hat. adam may have questions about family dynamics.
some days my job is good
mugshot: later that day
water after brought in Chinese food because massive clean up
not pictured: that thing where you sit at your desk and no you’re weeping for no reason you can name and for all of the reasons
my dad’s wife in the bedroom, me on the settee. (tom’s room still not entirely sorted or easy to navigate, the bed just high enough off the floor to up the degree of difficulty and the potential of falling)
she sorts out how to move the thermostat. (it is not warm when she arrives and I feel a mean hostess, accustomed as I am not to mess with the settings. but she’s cold and we don’t live in a barn)
through the small hours forced hot air rushes with the intensity one imagines would be needed to suck the house back up into the mother ship hovering just above.
in not unrelated dream news: a heating technician makes an appointment with my mother to adjust the heat in her flat. she agrees to be home on the 21st. I agree to be there, too, to let the man in
only we won’t
now, three of those oranges are in a bowl downstairs waiting for the one person who wanted to continue last month’s ESOL workshop.
also, bagels for her and for students coming to meet tomorrow because why would you not walk into the office when it’s no degrees outside and you can’t sleep, not really, anyway and the office is
relatively better heated warmer than pitman street and later, maybe next weekend, sleeping in.
to review: bagel seeking achievement unlocked, workshop - such as it is with one person - in t minus fifteen and saturday and hey! wake up.
yes, please. you.