I. Month end achieved. That was a SLOG y’all, but the results were just gorgeous.

These tutorials all went up in Book Of Days 2021.

This went up in Moonshine & Moonshine Lite for February.

This was for Journal Jam, which we streamed live yesterday. The replay is up on Patreon. 

II. Lockdown fatigue is real, but cases are way down in London, so I have been hanging out with Lee a little, which is awesome because he is the best platonic life partner ever. He came over on Monday night and made me a huge Shark Coot with cheese and bread that HE BOUGHT AND BROUGHT and sat up with me ’till 3 in the morning while we watched The Magicians. It was grand.

III. I feel like all I do is work, but I love my work, so it’s okay. I keep imagining all the things I’ll do when this is over, and that feels hopeful and optimistic but also a bit frustrating because I WANT TO DO IT NOW.

IV. Someone dumped me on Patreon because I’m a smoker. I am amused and also a little o.O WTF? My Patreon is AMAZING and if my smoking is a judgmental bish deterrent, so be it. FYI I ALSO SWEAR AND DRINK AND HAVE UNMARRIED SEX WHEN THAT’S POSSIBLE.

*Cracks up*

Some people. *Shakes head*

V. Watching Catfish. I do not know how people fall for any of this. Denial, man. It’s some powerful stuff.

VI. This is too true.

Hindsight. Ooof.

VII. Indigo Girls are doing livestreams on Facebook and I’m here for it.

VIII. I need to claw my house back from month end. Thankfully, I have help, but it’s exhausting just thinking about even making the list for my house elf, though, so I’m girding my loins and deep breathing and reminding myself that I *am allowed to delegate* and *I am worthy of my own self-care that comes in the form of paying people to do the things I really would rather not have to do*. That was a really long fucking sentence, but y’all, the struggle with this whole “letting myself have help” thing is *real*.

The work to feel worthy continues. Does it ever end?

IX. I find myself no longer fearing dying alone. I don’t know when that shift happened, or how, really, but it has happened. I have stopped moaning about how much I hate being single. I don’t actually hate it. In fact, when I think about having someone in my life, I also think about how much labour there is involved in *waves at all of that*.

I think part of that is because my primary love language is acts of service. I overdeliver, and overdo, and then I resent it when my needs aren’t being met. Part of that is because I’ve never actually had a relationship that met my needs in the long term. Part of it, though, is that men just seem to expect their partners to do all the emotional labour, and that gets exhausting.

I don’t want to be exhausted. I don’t want to be disappointed. I don’t want to be deceived. I don’t want to be taken for granted. And when I think about being in a relationship, that’s what I think is going to happen, so I’m kind of opposed to it right now.

A lover, though. I’d love a lover. Someone I don’t have to serve or clean up after. Someone who won’t expect me to do all the work. Someone who never shows up empty handed and never out stays his welcome. Someone who’ll be honest with me. Someone for whom my pleasure matters as much as their own.

I suspect that a lot of this “Oh fuck no” feeling around relationships stems from having been so badly burned, and I may heal from that and change my mind one day but for now, I’m all “Oh fuck no”, and that’s okay.

X. The kind of passionate love I’ve experienced has led me down some dark roads. I’m ready for light roads. I’m ready for easy.



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