You ever have a task that needs doing and wait until the very end of the day when you’re so exhausted there’s literally no energy left for perfectionism to get it done? Yeah, I’m currently typing this laying down using one hand. I’m the kind of tired that makes your legs feel like if they had a stomach they’d be nauseas, you know? Fuck yesterday Harmony for committing to daily writing!
Aaaaaanyway. I have two things to talk about today. Well, gosh, I have a whole lot more than that. But I have two things I can talk about while maintaining my demure ladylike reputation. (Oh no, the illusion would be SHATTERED!)
One.
This morning as I was conducting my daily flirtation with my new barista boyfriend (he doesn’t know he’s my boyfriend – don’t tell him), it occurred to me that the whole “lock me in a tower if I meet a boy” portion of last nights post maaay have been a bit hasty. Considering a shamefully large portion of my brain is inevitably focused on men in some way, shape or form during all waking hours. Wait… dreams.. Jesus, fine let’s just admit it’s 24/7. I’ve made my peace with it. Taking this into consideration, and remembering how much of my blogging used to end up centred around boys boys boys back in the day, perhaps we should all agree on a stipulation for tower incarcerations, hey?
You are hereby granted permission to hold me accountable to not entering into a serious/exclusive/long term or in any possible way all consuming “relationship” with a man for AT LEAST the next 99 days. Outside of that, you’re welcome in advance for the sure to be incoming deluge of dude musings!
Glad we got that ironed out.
Two!
I’m moving… again. For those of you that haven’t been paying close attention to my living circumstances – How dare you? It’s like you don’t even love me! – here’s the rundown.
January 2020 I moved into a gorgeous house on acreage with David. Hmm.. are we gonna straight up use real names in here? Eh, looks that way! January 2021 David was gone, I had a housemate and my mother move in to help with the rent. Our super delightful *cough*HORRID BITTER WENCH*cough* landlord Penny lived riiiight next door. Which was fine, until it wasn’t. Penny decided not to renew my lease, no real reason was given. Good lord I could rant for days about this one. But we’re not gonna give her the fucking airtime. Point is, I was forced to find a new home for myself and my animals.
Lo and behold, I actually found a room to rent on a lovely property with a lovely young couple! I didn’t particularly want to do the share house thing, it’s a bit too far out of town, the house is infested with critters and the wifi is nonexistent. But I was able to bring all my animals. At that point it was rent the room or risk living in my car. And if I’m super honest, I’d actually been spending a lot of time with a guy and had figured I’d be at his place most of the time anyway. So I went for it!
I know, I know, for fucks sake Harmony. As if you’d let some “thing” with some dude sway your plans, right? Though in my defence, I’ve only realised that was an actual factor in my decision making process upon reflection. Whoops. HAH.
So naturally that whole thing ended about as soon as I’d moved in. Then it became apparent the property wasn’t suitable for my pony. Then my cat became miserable. Then I needed the internet for work. Then my new landlords brought in another housemate, and another dog. Then my dog became miserable. Then my mum got herself a nice, clean, convenient, excellent wifi having, five minutes from the beach, affordable house and offered me a room.
Seems like a pretty obvious decision to make there, right? Duh! That was about a month ago. And yet I’m still living out of a backpack in limbo between “my place” and mums place. Why? Excellent question. I’ve been asking myself the same thing.
But as of this week I’ve decided to move on in with mama in the suburbs (hell, maybe it’s just a general aversion to living in the ‘burbs?) and as of tonight I’ve figured out the main reason I’ve been putting it off is that I’m viewing this move as some sort of failure. Like I went off to do my own thing and am ending up back with my mother. None of it’s worked out the way I planned, and I don’t want to admit defeat.
Which brings me to my self reflection learnings of the day. The quote “don’t hold onto a mistake just because you spent a long time making it” comes to mind. I don’t feel any of this little chapter has been a mistake, but I have been resisting letting it go.
So I asked myself – what feels more like failure, holding on to a situation that feels under my control but is ultimately making me unhappy or letting go and taking the logical route that I’m clearly being redirected towards. Obviously staying where I am would be a classic “cutting off your nose to spite your face” scenario based on pure ego, which definitely feels like a failure to me!
Who’s got two thumbs and is finally figuring out the virtue of flexibility? This guuuyyyy!
Now the only thing left to do is banish the ol’ social anxiety long enough to inform my lovely landlords that I’m moving out, and then ditch all of my belongings because oh my god please don’t make me move again!!
Just kidding. I’m very grateful that I have all of my things, a means to move them, and beautiful people to help 🙂 So.. uh… anyone wanna make a phone call for me?
Love you for being here xoxo