Celeriac

Tonight, we have made a bit of space for it.  That little sound – a wordless sound, a ringing of the edge of a crystal cup – will become louder and louder and more sonorous and fill the room with its vibration.

A new work week begins tomorrow.  I am feeling the usual dread, mainly because my boss pointedly asked for something I don’t know how to resolve, which is my ability to assert myself with knowledge and delegate on her behalf.  But if I look at it differently, I would see it as an opportunity to work on the power of boundaries.  I need some in a couple different areas, and I don’t know how to do them, but I think it would be a chance to try.  To not provide the automatic yes in any circumstance because someone stands next to me and asks for it.  I also feel a bit of dread for not checking my phone.  But the boss was going home and I was starting to exhaust myself by entering my code on it every 10 minutes.  I am not being paid to check, and it is a difficult thing to respond, so I will look at it in a bit, see the pointed email again and feel a bit frayed and somehow figure it out.

There is also reason to fear the office – fear is a harsh word, perhaps, just feel wary.  Tomorrow we have cake.  I know this because I ordered it.  I have tried to begin, imperfectly, but begin low-carb.  To get myself going and went so far as to order my groceries as to not be tempted to buy all manner of sugary treats.  I don’t know where my willpower is or isn’t, but I suspect it will not be located at the end of my fork tomorrow when the Bavarian cream arrives.

So. We will just have to continue on.  Tonight I ate two pieces of celery and have drunk a bit of water which feels like a victory of the good and done over the perfect and just imagined.   Because this is a struggle that I’ve yet to get over the first hill and I am so damned curious as to what’s beyond this.

And there’s more to say about why I suddenly feel this spring urge to dig my heels in, but really, truly, I am trying to do something that will make me feel better and that’s the alpha and the omega of it.  I am sick of feeling so poorly, inside and out, so we do this, even if, sitting here, we are still absolute haunted by the idea of cake.

Alright, I am capable, I think of a few more words.  I can always talk about you now, but my thoughts are far too scattered to give a J. update and if anyone needs to know, I can tell them personally.  Things are fine, I am contemplating the unbearable fineness of being, and how to be appreciative and yet still push for me as I spin in this gem tumbler.

 

 

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