||[Dec. 24th, 2014|06:15 am]
These grey short days feel so unusual. I am allowing myself more rest, more rest, and wonder if i will ever be rested. I remember some years ago when i allowed myself a winter season of saying "no," a season of not making decisions. That was such a valuable rest: i recall the clarity on the other side, how some decisions seemed obvious when before that season i was wrestling with them.
Yesterday wasn't grey, and i was back in in the office after a four day weekend. The southern exposure of our offices and the single paned glass make for a sauna experience and the blinds stay closed. It looks like we will have bright weather for the next few days. I have, however, volunteered to work Friday. There's a project in a tizzy, behind schedule, major kerfluffle, and there has already been an incident of calling people while they were on vacation for support. (My four day weekend was unmolested.) I think the project is doomed by fluffy thinking; yesterday's meeting was marked by me asking questions to which the answers seemed to be "um" and "huh."
Ah, but folks don't give up. So i'll work Friday instead of go on a road trip. I'll go on one soon.
I've gotten out for walking the past few days - YAY. Please little baby habit, hang in there. And i'm trying to use the "conditions of enoughness" responsibly. Not over plan and fail to complete, as i have been. Last night, since we went out to eat with a friend, the COE was to walk while the delicates ran through the wash cycle. And Christine was right, if i had had to wait for the dryer cycle of another load, it wouldn't have happened.
Just backspaced over typing about how meager a goal that was. I have my mother, who was up at 1 am to do Christmas cards yesterday, as a role model. She's an incredibly unhealthy model. I've spent the past years un-training myself from "i have to" o the point where, perhaps, there are some things i ought to be doing that i'm not. The "perhaps" is that i don't have a good yard stick: questions of "Would i be healthier?" are met with "um." I know that one can over-clean, and i believe American culture is out of whack with such great jobs of soap selling. How much cleaning is culturally driven and a signifier of privilege and how much is good for your health or good maintenance?
I've taken away the unthinking "i have to" that i was raised with, questioned, and found a sort of drifting place. I'm hoping that i slowly move into a place where i am comfortable with the answers.
Asthma, of course, is a problem with establishing this line, because theoretically There Should Be No Dust. Pft.
When we saw my NC nephew at the beginning of the month, he was designing his own board game. Christine told him about dice beyond the six sided choice, and he was wowed. The obvious choice then was to get him dice for Yule, which led to a purchase of the introductory D&D set. I had bought the D&D books when they came out, but i had no one to play with as a teen. Christine did have friends. This year, as i muttered my teen angst, Christine said, "Hey, is this a hint you've been dropping all these years?" We've rolled up two characters for me and have started on the quest from the first edition of the game. I'm not playing the characters i would have played as a teen: i'm playing two very young dwarves for whom naive is not strong enough a term. Christine is rather amused.