never was a cornflake girl

1. Bear is sick. I think he has the flu but he's one of the worst of those "Man Flu" people. I try to give him a lot of grace, because being sick sucks, but I can't always tell when he's REALLY sick or it's just that he can't handle discomfort. I'm avoiding him in the house, which may not be fair, but so far, I'm not sick *KNOCK ON ALL THE WOOD* and I'd like to keep it that way. We think Little Bear brough home school crud. They've felt unwell on and off for the past few days but not even close to the same level as Bear.

Of course, trying to avoid him means I'm sleeping elsewhere. I'm sharing Little Bear's full sized bed but the mattress super sucks and I haven't slept well. I tried the couch the other night and that sucked because our couch sucks. So, I'm tired, which isn't good for me not getting sick. Ugh.

Pray for us sinners in our hour of need.

2. FIC REC

Just did a fic re-read of a story that's just SO GOOD. I've read it more than a few times but it doesn't matter, it always gets me emotional. Right now, in this dysphoric mania, meant I really cried. The story ends well, which is all that mattered to me if it was going to make me cry, and I'll probably re-read it again before the end of the year.

Title: psalm 40:2
Author: unicornpoe
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Summary: “How the fuck do you know my name?” Dean hisses.

The man doesn’t look scared. He is watching Dean like there is nothing else worth watching, lips a little parted, eyes a little soft. And blue. Real blue, like the ocean on a postcard.

The ice spreading down Dean’s spine makes him shiver.

“I suppose you could say I’m your guardian angel,” the man murmurs. His breath fogs pale between them. All of him is unnaturally warm, like Dean’s touching somebody with the sun sewn up beneath their skin. “I have known you, Dean Winchester, for a very long time.”

*

Dean meets an angel who says he's from the future. It all gets a lot more complicated from there.

Why I'm Rec-ing This: The writing and characterization is beautiful. The concept is unique and I really loved how it was executed. It's heartbreaking in the best way and great for when you need just a LITTLE BIT of a cry, and does have a (mostly) happy ending.


3.

I have what I call "Depression House(TM)". This basically means my whole house is a disaster. The house is 106 years old and there are NO CLOSETS on the first floor. The one closet the house did have was removed in order to create a stairwell for inside access to the basement. This means that my built-in storage is incredibly limited and any "home improvement" work done by previous occupants has failed to add anything despite the opportunities presented.

What that means is that I don't have a lot of places to put things and I have a lot of things. Right now, when I try to clean or organize I just end up making neater piles and things eventually just backslide into "Depression House(TM)" once again.

I left my job in April because of a toxic boss who was trying to "quiet fire" me, and I quit before she could actually fire me. I've taken some time to not work, which has caused me to lose almost 20lbs without trying. That's how much cortisol I was living with and now has been removed from my body. It's glorious to live with so much less stress.

We can live on my husband's paycheck, which I know not everyone is able to do, but we are lucky (and I def. know it) so we agreed that I would be a stay-at-home mom for awhile. The deal, though, is that I'm supposed to work on the house and make progress. Which I really haven't been doing. I've been trying to get on a regular schedule for the regular chores that I wasn't really on top of when I was working and that's going well. But it means that I'm not really making a dent in the piles of stuff everywhere.

I did realize that ultimately, two things need to happen:
1. Get rid of shit
2. Create a home for whatever is left

We have a basement but we do get water in it on the regular. Not a ton of water, but enough that setting stuff on the floor is a calculated risk. There aren't any built in shelves so we've had to buy some. We made the mistake of buying plastic shelves that don't really hold much weight, and only have one set of metal shelves. We'd like to buy more of those metal shelves, which have wheels. because then we could store so much more down there. But we don't have them yet.

Right now, I'm working on the first floor, to clean off/organize the book shelves we have, to remove any books we don't actually want, put the books in piles onto the bookcases, and clean where the books had been sitting. A lot of stuff in my piles could go (and probably should go) on a bookcase, so this will make a large dent in everything. It just takes a lot of time.

I spent hours today cleaning shelves, organizing what already was on them, and adding books that had been on the floor. It felt like a lot of work but I don't know if someone who didn't participate in the work will appreciate. That's important because Bear has been pointing out (fairly so) that I've not been getting things done when we had agreed that I would, so if I have done what I think is a considerable amount of work within the gigantic pool of what needs to be done, it needs to be evident to him as well.

I have to be careful with myself to not lose perspective about what is happening. The mental health medication regimen I've been using for the past year or so is allowing me to give myself some mental distance from the literal things I've been clinging to for literal decades. I've thrown so much stuff away (which also means donations or recycling)- it's been very freeing. I still have more to throw out, which is sometimes (a lot of times) very overwhelming and is probably why I've been dragging my feet as long as I have on this, but I have to keep reminding myself that I am chipping away at everything.

My deepest concern is that I have been raising my kid in this kind of environment for the majority of their life and I don't know what that is going to do to their view on how to keep their own home, what should be expected in a safe and clean residence, etc. I'm trying to be as honest as possibly about what I'm trying to do, why things have been this way, and what I'd like them to know about societal expectations as compared to our own personal expectations for our homes.

All of the above is this swirling mix of everything in my head, about what's in my house, and it's rough for me but I'm trying to keep honest perspective. Yes, things are not great. Yes, I have done a poor job of maintaining my home, which has impacted the rest of my family. However, it is true that progress is happening, conversations are happening, and things are getting better.

You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time. Chomp, chomp, chomp, I guess.




4. The cat, after 7 years, has finally decided she wants to be a lap cat. I have spent literal hours in the rocking chair, with her on my lap. It's a good way to take a break from the above cleaning but probably not conducive for more productive organizing/cleaning work. Whatever- I've been waiting for this cat to just want to sit on my lap and now I have it. VICTORY.