Notes From My Desk
Jul. 25th, 2017 01:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amidthestarsIt was better morning, this morning. It wasn't raining, for one thing. I got up early and wandered around the apartment, trying to stretch out all these bicycle aches. I walked to work, stopped for a coffee on the way. The air was still cool. Summer is not my finest season. I hate the heaviness of too much heat.
Now I'm at my desk and wondering how I can live this day with some grace. I'm worried about the video I'm working on, full of self-doubt. I have a plan, a goal I can reach by the end of the day, and hopefully it will help me feel a little less like I'm failing horrendously. Down the hall, my favourite curmudgeonly professor is swearing at his computer. Somebody is smoking a cigarette outside my open window. I should mind, but I don't. My parents both smoked when I was a kid. To me, cigarettes smell like childhood.
My boss walked into my office this morning holding both hands behind her back. "I have something for you," she said, and I could not imagine what on earth she could be holding. A coffee? I think she sells essential oils, so maybe that? Nope. It was a brand new package of 25 coloured sharpies. "Now you can storyboard in colour," she said, pointing to my wall of post-its and pen doodles while I sat there blinking, stunned. This package contains every colour imaginable: mint green, lavender, peach, four different shades of pink.
This evening, my grand plan is to walk to Lush - which is not too far from my office - to smell delicious things and maybe buy something lovely and unnecessary. It won't be makeup, but it will be a step in that direction, maybe. I keep thinking about face masks. My evenings are so quiet lately. I'd like to use them in a way that feels nice, that feels deliberate. If I can't get rid of my rules, maybe I can try to trade them for better ones. Ones that might regularly involve delicious smelling facial products, or taking some deep breaths at the kitchen counter while the kettle boils, or not yelling at myself so much.
Because if I can yell at myself, I can probably also tell myself I'm nice. If I can say no, I can also say yes. I once knew a nun who often told me that, just like in physics, your energy can't be created or destroyed. It can only be transferred from one form to another. I don't remember choosing this particular form, but maybe I can choose a new one. Maybe it can be up to me.
Now I'm at my desk and wondering how I can live this day with some grace. I'm worried about the video I'm working on, full of self-doubt. I have a plan, a goal I can reach by the end of the day, and hopefully it will help me feel a little less like I'm failing horrendously. Down the hall, my favourite curmudgeonly professor is swearing at his computer. Somebody is smoking a cigarette outside my open window. I should mind, but I don't. My parents both smoked when I was a kid. To me, cigarettes smell like childhood.
My boss walked into my office this morning holding both hands behind her back. "I have something for you," she said, and I could not imagine what on earth she could be holding. A coffee? I think she sells essential oils, so maybe that? Nope. It was a brand new package of 25 coloured sharpies. "Now you can storyboard in colour," she said, pointing to my wall of post-its and pen doodles while I sat there blinking, stunned. This package contains every colour imaginable: mint green, lavender, peach, four different shades of pink.
This evening, my grand plan is to walk to Lush - which is not too far from my office - to smell delicious things and maybe buy something lovely and unnecessary. It won't be makeup, but it will be a step in that direction, maybe. I keep thinking about face masks. My evenings are so quiet lately. I'd like to use them in a way that feels nice, that feels deliberate. If I can't get rid of my rules, maybe I can try to trade them for better ones. Ones that might regularly involve delicious smelling facial products, or taking some deep breaths at the kitchen counter while the kettle boils, or not yelling at myself so much.
Because if I can yell at myself, I can probably also tell myself I'm nice. If I can say no, I can also say yes. I once knew a nun who often told me that, just like in physics, your energy can't be created or destroyed. It can only be transferred from one form to another. I don't remember choosing this particular form, but maybe I can choose a new one. Maybe it can be up to me.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-26 01:19 pm (UTC)"If I can say no, I can also say yes." It's so simple isn't it? But it's still not easy.