So it’s been 10 days since I quit being a slave to ‘The Man’, aka the soon-to-be twin of the 5-star hotel I worked for. I haven’t woken up once thinking there is somewhere I am supposed to be, and I haven’t yet looked for a job. While browsing, Honey located a few admin jobs that pay as much or more than I was making, but I decided to take a full week’s vacation before worrying about it. Guess I lost count, what with all the fun and relaxation I’m having. I’ve spent my days blissfully sleeping until the sun in my window wakes me, playing dominoes after dinner with family (and trouncing them!) catching up on all my favorite TV shows, and finally decorating my room so it looks like I live here – that was no small feat, I’ve dismantled and assembled twice now. Unfortunately the laundry beast is still winning, but is at least trapped in the closet out of sight. Aside from all the bliss, I’ve been trying to manage Honey’s paperwork obligations for his photography. It’s more than I expected and more difficult to get things done too. There are warm sunny days outside and … you know how it goes.
I watched Mr. Magoirum’s Wonder Emporium the other day, a movie I would recommend for anyone needing to reach his or her own missing inner child. I was particularly taken with ‘the congreave cube’ – I have no idea how you spell it, but it’ a block of wood and also a magical object if you believe in it. It flips, walks, and also flies. I read way too much sci-fi when I was a kid not to believe in things I can’t see (it goes far past Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, just so you know). In a nutshell, it has been the good times promised by Honey, when he convinced me it was more important to be me than pay bills.
All the photos for this post will likely be happy flowers or abstract pretty things. It’s the zone I’m in now. I still battle periodically with mini tidal waves of stress; my first round of royally F’ing up my credit didn’t involve phone calls or nasty-grams – I was, to their knowledge, without phone number or address. This round is a little different. They find me, and if they can’t, they find Honey, which I think is just rude. Anyway, happy flowers.
I watched Mr. Magoirum’s Wonder Emporium the other day, a movie I would recommend for anyone needing to reach his or her own missing inner child. I was particularly taken with ‘the congreave cube’ – I have no idea how you spell it, but it’ a block of wood and also a magical object if you believe in it. It flips, walks, and also flies. I read way too much sci-fi when I was a kid not to believe in things I can’t see (it goes far past Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, just so you know). In a nutshell, it has been the good times promised by Honey, when he convinced me it was more important to be me than pay bills.
All the photos for this post will likely be happy flowers or abstract pretty things. It’s the zone I’m in now. I still battle periodically with mini tidal waves of stress; my first round of royally F’ing up my credit didn’t involve phone calls or nasty-grams – I was, to their knowledge, without phone number or address. This round is a little different. They find me, and if they can’t, they find Honey, which I think is just rude. Anyway, happy flowers.
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