so those resolutions

Some­times self-care feels like drag­ging around a child throw­ing a tantrum. 

Ac­com­plish­ing any­thing worth­while in­volves an in­ner di­a­logue be­tween me and my most in­tim­i­dat­ing mom voice.

“Does that go there?”
“o …”
“Where does it go? Put it back.”
*hal­fass­es the thing*
“Do it right. You are an adult.”
“UGHH, FINE. GOD. WHATEVER.”

It’s not an of­fi­cial res­o­lu­tion or any­thing, but I am try­ing to get back in the habit of or­ga­niz­ing and dec­o­rat­ing my liv­ing space. I haven’t done it in a pret­ty long time, be­tween be­ing sick, or busy, or just not see­ing the point when I was nev­er liv­ing any­where I ac­tu­al­ly felt like I want­ed to be.

I still live with some­one who is of­fend­ed by half the things that make up my iden­ti­ty, and breaks my heart on the reg­u­lar, and I’m not sure what to do about that yet, but the space here is still (sort of) half-mine. It might help if it at least looked that way in­stead of like some­one else’s house with a pile of box­es in the corner.

If you are a res­o­lu­tion mak­er, I hope you are do­ing well and feel­ing ready to for­give your­self and start over when you get off track (be­cause every­one does and it’s to­tal­ly okay). Jan­u­ary is one of my fa­vorite times to do things be­cause there is so much mo­ti­va­tion­al en­er­gy in the air.

But if any­one would like to also of­fer some phys­i­cal en­er­gy, there is a book­shelf I could use some help assembling …

Hope you have en­joyed this stream of consciousness.
 

—bwargh von modnar

Flom­mist Bwargh von Mod­nar is. Copy­right © 2019 Bwargh von Modnar.‬

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