#33. Endorphins are my friends.

Before I ran five miles today all I wanted was to disappear. Maybe sleep forever. 

I felt (and still do feel) stuck in my job. Stuck in Maryland. Trapped under the thumb of money and capitalism and too-many-people-vying-for-the-same-things-as-me.

Feeling stuck often leaves me feeling apathetic. Screw it all and everyone along with it, I say. So I guess it's less apathetic and more bitter at first. But then I decide that sleeping forever or fading into a nonthing would be better than applying to underpaying, undesired jobs anyway.

It's easier to not care, to not feel. Feeling hurts a lot and a lot of the time, it seems.

But then I went running. On my return trip, I started feeling more awake. Yes, I can apply to those jobs even if they're only better in that they're different than my now, I say. Yes, I will apply to Johns Hopkins even though I probably can't afford it if I do get accepted, I say. 

Sometimes chemicals are nice.

I haven't written here in so long because I couldn't stand the thought of being pissy about my life in front of y'all. I only want to get moving, to start doing what I am made to do, being who I am made to be. 

I know. "Bloom where you are planted." Good grief though. There are so many weeds right now, and not the pretty kind. 

I'm still feeling the itch to escape. To run into the waiting arms of the genial South, whose negatives I know like my own but whose positives I want as my own. 

I need space. Unadulterated bigness. I need to be able to choose whether or not to see humans and luxury cars today. Honestly I don't know that moving southward would provide that but it sure feels more likely than not. 

Anyway. Lily turned two! Look how tiny she was when she was tiny!

She was about 3 months old here.

#32. Bottomless Pit.

I forgot about this. The cravings. The felt need/want to eat more and to eat sugar and carbohydrates.

I've picked up running again. Somehow or other I think I've lost my tennis shoes (maybe I left them in the back offices of Look Up? They are Nike, grey and orange if anyone notices...) and it's been the biggest blessing for my athletic activity. Except playing tennis. That's more difficult. Chacos ain't made for that.

A couple Saturdays ago, I had been sitting around reading, dog-park-going, and sitting all day and noticed that because it was rested my hamstring wasn't the least bit sore. I says to myself, I says, "I'ma gointa run!"

No tennis shoes...Five-Fingers it is then. My gosh, what a difference! Because of the way the Unshoe is made, it reminds you to run more naturally and toward the ball of your foot rather than the heel. That being so, the act of running puts almost all of the stress on the calves and NOT the hamstring.

Glory be! This means that even on the days my hamstrings hurts from fatigue, I can run because the pressure is on a different muscle. This means that I'm not in danger of further injuring myself.

This means I'm very much in danger of eating myself out of house and home. I love to run. I love to eat. Running means I can eat more without getting more of me. Eating more means buying more food. Buying more food means buying less of something else. Most of my something-elses are also necessities, so...

If anyone has suggestions for super-filling super-cheap foods...I'm all ears, er, eyes.

#31. Animals and Vegetables.

Animals are lovely. Look how close (through a window) I got to this fawn!

And watch this video sent me by Jim. It's a corgi. Jumping in a body of water.

Bad Day Banisher!

Now about the vegetables. It's becoming more and more obvious that I am not good in the least at keeping houseplants alive. As evidenced by the three plants of the Mizrahi's that've died on my watch and by my greeting this Monday being "Whatever the opposite of a green thumb is, I'm certain you have it." Great start to my work week.

I've heard waaaay too much about minerals and ores and blech lately to talk about them. Max loves Minecraft and me, and talking about Minecraft with me. I do not care about Minecraft in the least, but I care about Max so I listen with somewhat less rapt attention than I did seven weeks ago. 

Ella got mad at me because I told her I'd have to take a rain check for an Uno game. Her dad came and asked/told me to switch out his soap in the shower and take out his office trash as I was folding laundry and had told Ella that I'd play with her as soon as I finished that one load. 

The Mom came home and was subtly pissed about the plant dying. She was cold and cordial. I've decided that they will not make me feel bad about it. I know the ins and outs of the kids personalities and they tell me things and listen to me. I don't know how much water a plant takes or why it's so picky. I also don't care. Because nature is outside and if you want a freakin' outdoor experience, go freakin' outdoors. If you want to see a plant, go walk in a forest. Bringing a plant inside doesn't make a warmer home, and if you think it does and care so much, water the damn thing yourself.

Sorry. Kinda.

I'm frustrated and most every part of me wants to make a list of the things I now refuse to do because they are basic life skills and responsibilities. I don't care how much influence or money or intellect you have, it shouldn't be anyone else's job but your own to switch out your soap or rearrange your make-up after you use it. 

This weekend, Saturday specifically, I was so antsy. I miss Mi Casa and the real and whole conversations and framily I had there. I miss the South Carolina landscape and friendscape. I miss being around a large group of people who know what it is to work hard and then relax, really relax and take Sabbath. I want friends who read and take life equal amounts of seriously and jovially. Schedules are not my prime mode of operation, and it seems most things have agendas here. Even in the bayside town of Annapolis, people are walking fast and have a purpose. What happened to wandering? More importantly, to wondering?

Speaking of, I take back my previous review of "The Prophetic Imagination." If you can suffer through the first 60 or so pages, the rest is so far much more interesting and spirit-stirring. Still poorly organized, but loads better and worth the read.

I really am okay, y'all, just in the same tough employment and social spot as usual. 

A trip southward is desired before the weather turns though.