I don't wanna

I am facing the fact that I simply did not get the organizational gene and I am a pack rat.  This is a deadly combination for a small house with three very creative and space desiring individuals.  My sweetie was organized when I met him... I think I took the wind out of his sails a bit... a few months in and by the time we were married he just let it go.  Such a sweet man in ohh, so many ways.  I don't want to sort through and get rid of stuff.  It drives me nuts when I realize how much money I have spend on "crap"  most of it just needlessly.  So, beginning to organize and get rid of crap feels like I am rubbing my face in it AND it can be liberating.  It is a lonely process though and I get so anxious that I will make a mistake.  I have been dipping into organizational books and trying to sort it all through but I just get overwhelmed and want to throw my hands up in the air,  way, way high in the air... Sigh, in fact I am probably writing this post in order to avoid getting rid of stuff... I don't wanna BUT I am gonna...

Catch up

How crazy is my life?  I have had to contact a journal that I had a story published in-- with the hope that they might have a copy of my article.  I can't find it anywhere.  I suspect it got lost in the flood... along with a few other precious things.

I am laughing because I began this blog with the intention of reflecting on the intersections of my life and now four months later, I can sit down to write an entry... BECAUSE THE SEMESTER IS OVER!

Dear Goddess, I have got to find another formula for having a successful life.  The constant anxiety, the unrelenting fear of failure, the inability to pace myself is a deadly formula.  When will I ever be able to look in the mirror and be satisfied with she who looks back at me.  I have  Ph. D but I have no idea where my research should take me next... What do I want to discover, create, consider... yep, just drawing a blank... 

On the simple side, my son is close to being potty trained and preschool looms on his horizon.  We are supposed to be done breastfeeding before he can attend (according to his teacher) but I am pretty much going to let that one be.  I never imagined I was going to be one of the women who breastfed until the later years (by western cultural standards) but here I am.  My son shows no signs of stopping and quite frankly I am just not sure why it matters so much.  Occasionally, it drives me crazy to be on call but -- truly this is a finite amount of time and I don't want to spend it worrying about what other people think. 

The summer looks ripe and full of possibilities.  The zoo, MOCHA, Studio Grow, Discovery Museum, the Library... good stuff!  I am also hoping to calm the house down, sort through stuff, paint a few walls and create a haven for my little family so next academic year is not quite so brutal. 
We shall see and I will try to keep you more informed.  I might even begin to write some actual collide and transform my life.