August was, for what it was worth, a month I really needed that I had no idea I needed until just now. It was a really, really good month. I celebrated some great things. My son turned 16, and we celebrated his birthday in New York City- his first visit ever. My best friend bought her first home and we celebrated her birthday by her allowing me to cook the first meal in our— um… her new kitchen. I fit easily into my goal jeans— some red size 8s that I never thought I’d fit again. Actually, that’s a lie. In On February 18, 2018, when my life and my body and my weight and my skin and my hair were a mess and my self-esteem was in shambles and my cholesterol was high I wrote in my journal that I would fit them again, and in August I did. So I did think I’d fit them again. In August I guess I learned the learned the true power of intention and of journaling. Wow. And I didn’t realize that til just now, either. I also saw my doctor for a physical and my vitamin D is low but my cholesterol is normal. I kicked my caffeine habit. (That one was a bitch to surrender, I tell you.)
In August, my workload slowed to virtually nil.
And when I say nil. Listen.
I wish I could show bank statements, but I don’t want to introduce that kind of negativity into your lives. I had no work. So I had no choice… but to sit still.
Correction. I read an excellent book I’ve been wanting to read for months. I discovered that I’m really, really good as baking things. So fat I’ve mastered several cobblers, banana pudding, (lemon) pound cake, red velvet cake, cupcakes, the most amazing chocolate frosting I’ve ever tasted (no, really), and buttercream frosting. All from scratch. I cleaned. I REALLY cleaned. I rearranged furniture to shift energy. I got rid of old things. I fixed stuff. Hung pictures. Got Hendrix a bed. Soaked in the tub. Gone to the zoo. Visited New York City with my kid and watched the wonder of the city through his eyes. Watched my baby turn 16. Geez. I hung out with my mother. I cried with my best friend as we celebrated the end of a long journey that was totally worth it. I reorganized my kitchen cabinets. I’m doing some gardening next week. I’m even gonna (get this shit) repair the zipper on some pants I thought I’d gotten rid of that I can fit again. I’ve learned to be kind to myself, to celebrate the stuff I never thought I’d enjoy because I never really took the time to do.
All because I had no work.
In August, I learned some sucky (really REALLY awful sucky) money lessons. But I had a change to stop worrying. And give my energy to things with products I can be proud of. Maybe even discovered another stream of income, because my baked gods? Y’all. Amazing. I’m serious! So instead of worrying, I found outlets for my nerves… and found some dope shit. And I started this blog to whine about how much August was the worst because I didn’t make any money.
Ha. Fooled my damn self with this one.
I’m ready for September.
I am ready for the rest of this year. I took August to figure out what I really wanted. I wrote things out. Set some intentions, you know? Bought some candles. Mastered my twist-out. Even found myself an academic planner… the ones that start with September. The start of Michael’s school year has always been the beginning of a new year for me— probably because I spent so many years teaching. I’m getting to really know this person I am, and with self-awareness has come improvement.
I wasn’t frantic about work, because there was none. And because there was no work, there was life. My prayer is that I learn balance when my workload increases, well, as it continues to increase. I really hope I stop to breathe and bake and be. And write and sing and love my cat and cuddle and laugh.
I found the most fantastic gift in what I thought was a void. And I didn’t realize that until just now.
Maybe I finally figured out how to manifest something other than shit to worry about.
-journal excerpt, 8/31/18
I write because a lot of what I have to say is too crass and inappropriate for me to say out loud.