Toast

The rain patters quietly outside of her open window, punctuated by a car alarm honking forlornly in the distance. Placing her hands on either side of her mug, the warmth seeps into her fingers and she breathes in, herbal cadence blending with fresh rain smell. It had been a long day, discouraging but she couldn’t let up just yet. She wrinkled her nose slightly, noting that the trash was not a list item that she could put off any longer. A blank spot on the opposing wall gained her steady gaze as she pondered the complex weight on her mind. How is it that no matter how much was ever accomplished in either her personal or professional life, it felt like no progress was made?

There was no answer of course. Not this time at least, so she rose from her spot on the floor to stare into the refrigerator. No food looked appealing, either requiring effort and time or unsettling her fickle appetite. She sighed. When did eating become just another item on her list of things to do? The neighbor’s bass thrummed through the wall and she finally grabbed a loaf of bread, throwing a couple slices in the toaster. She jumped when they popped up, what felt only a few seconds later. Butter. Absentmindedly, the previously utilized fork on the counter was used to spread the slices before she once again sank to the floor.

She couldn’t have turned into a robot entirely. Robots don’t care about food. The real question was, what else did she actually, truly, care about? Once again, no answers presented themselves so she continued to study the blank space on the wall and munch on the half-done toast.

The Perfect Life

Hello friends and strangers,
I must apologize for my extended absence. Life has been complicated lately. I know, when is it not. Battling burnout at my job, taking a wonderful trip from which I had to return, exhaustion and getting sick, focusing on my immediate space instead of the cerebral, and quite frankly, lack of wonder and inspiration in my everyday life; these are the things I blame for my lack of posting.

My eating and sleeping have been most impacted. Vivid dreams leave me tired and confused when I wake up. Interest in food or the energy to make it are in short supply.

This morning though, staying home to stream church instead of exposing people to whatever my body is fighting, I found that pocket of contentment. Nothing is perfect. I dropped my beautiful cheese toast face down on the rabbit-fur-covered rug. My stomach is still upset, but I was able to enjoy sitting on the ground by the windows, soaking up the sun indoors, since the smoke from Canada has impacted air quality. The black berries and crisp pickle slices, that escaped the fall, were refreshing and Clove convinced me to hand over some of the fur-covered toast, allowing me to fit in a few smoothings of her velvety soft fluff. No, things are far from perfect but, life can still be good.

Toasted sourdough, dill havarti, prosciutto, with blackberries, dill pickle slices and coffee.

Romanticizing Reality

I’ve been feeling pretty crap the past few days. Scratch that, the past few weeks. I started off the new year like any other, with goals, telling myself I would stick to my perfectly laid out plan. You would think that by now I would learn that perfect doesn’t exist in our messy lives. Stuff happens and plans get pushed to the side for dealing with something more pressing.

Even though I took last week to rest my body and mind after work, it didn’t magically make my adult responsibilities disappear and they’re still here, hanging out in my apartment with me. My coworker and I both share that acute stress that you get from someone standing in a waiting room where everyone is sitting and that is what my adulting to-do list feels like.

Finding a way to balance enjoying my life and not being drowned in the things that still need to be handled is a constant battle so I’ve been trying to find ways to improve the parts that I can’t get rid of entirely. Today I picked up some Pho on my way home, cozied up at my kotatsu (japanese heated table) and am going to do my best to pretend that I’m the hardworking heroin in a Ghibli movie. Good food to nourish my body (hopefully placate it) and the right perspective to try to make sorting my finances and catching up on cleaning fun.

We’ll see how it goes but I’m hopeful. Writing this, writing again in general is so good for me. What are some things that help improve your perspective and motivation?