beadwork, craft, embroidery, money, needlework, seed beads, self care, work

Apologies for the rhyming. Hamilton’s infected my timing.

Today, I came off of my second day in a row of working eight hours. Not joking, that’s hard. Especially when you skip breaks, and have to get up at 7:30 AM on both days. (At least I didn’t take any shifts that had me getting off after 8.) Then I came back home and had to do things related to work and career (and getting a higher-paying job) which cost a stupid amount of money. Professional Development.

On top of that, I’m going to have to deal with driving school (that is, getting a license). And I didn’t get paid last period because I was not working, I was out and then sick. Before then, I was trying to cram in my hours because I knew I’d have to be off, and that I’d have no income for that period. I also thought I had to fulfill a set number of hours, but they didn’t tell me that I had already far surpassed them.

Stressful…much?

It’s hard to deal with the beadwork stuff when I barely wear jewelry as it is. Sometimes I intend to. Then I forget to care, and I stop, and my piercings get sensitive again. Actually — now that I think about it — I hadn’t been wearing jewelry to work because of sanitation concerns. Water under the ring, water under the bracelet, earring against the phone, earnut on the floor, necklace with a lanyard over it.

There’s that, and the fact that I keep wearing flannel because it’s so cold. I’m not yet used to mixing-and-matching the genders of my clothes, though I can see the need for another insulating vest which isn’t a puffer. Or, you know…like maybe some pink or mauve button-front shirts. That fit.

Tomorrow, I need to go see someone about the driving stuff. That’s going to be another stressor for the near future. Not to mention that I’m having a mini aging crisis.

Maybe I should be thinking about stuff I can do to de-stress, instead of trying to get all my problems out of the way as quickly as possible. I mean, no one’s really watching me to makes sure I read up on Reader’s Advisory, or finish any particular book, or learn to make a Public Library program. I do have time that can be mine.

Embroidery, watercolor, or — actually — doing something with the beads I have, might help. I guess that when a person works part-time, there is that possibility of doing what one wants to do when off-work.

And I do have an urge to go out and get the tiny boxes I was after, before. My Czech seed beads, in particular…it’s hard to even think of using them, while they’re still strung. I do have some unused boxes. I’m just trying to figure out, now…how exactly I’m going to tell what’s what. Because I have a lot of odd-sized Czech seed beads, from 6/0, maybe up to size 16/0.* It’s harder to tell what is which size, when they aren’t all in a row. But I’ll have to cut them apart to use them, anyway.

It would be good if I could get back to my micro-macrame. The issue is that when designing from scratch, there is a period in there where things just aren’t working. The other issue is that working on one project generally leads to buying more beads to assist. Also…there’s the issue of the inevitable needle sticks and sore pinkies.

I am not sure how much longer I’m going to be beading. After all, the truth is that I don’t know what I’m doing when I’m prioritizing this. And I just bought something way outside of what I had outlined as my interests…but maybe embroidery will be soothing?

Something with needles. For some reason I like sharp precision instruments.

I’m not sure if that’s related to liking colors that I shouldn’t be touching.

IT’S “HAMILTON’S” FAULT, OKAY. Yeah, that one. The rap opera.

*actually, that’s pronounced “six-ought” and “sixteen-ought,” not “six-oh” and “sixteen-oh.” But I ought not think of it.

personal, philosophy, psychology, self care, spirituality

Reclusiveness?

Today, I didn’t go to work. It was intentional. Unfortunately, the vast majority of today was spent asleep. That…may have been a good thing, if I’m looking at keeping up my immunity. However, it did feel like time wasted (especially as I was called at least three times yesterday and this morning, to pick up an additional position).

I’m getting better at laying out my future Substitute positions. Last night I figured out when and where I’d work for the next two weeks, though I expect to be called in for more. As it stands, though, I can predict the minimum amount I’ll be paid — at least, unless I get sick. I’m starting to get concerned about the latter. I have a hint of throat irritation, though in the scheme of things, it’s nothing. What it means is that I need to continue to eat, drink water (especially), and rest. Some Zinc and Vitamin C probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

Over the past week, the weather has changed from Fall to Winter, rather dramatically. Of course, it isn’t quite Winter, yet: though I have always said that it would make sense for the solstice to mark the midpoint of Winter, rather than the beginning. But I can’t really change the Gregorian Calendar by myself.

Last night, I did lay out a number of things to do today, but to be honest, most of what I’ve been doing is eating and sleeping. I’m pretty sure it’s because it’s what I’ve needed to do…considering that one of us is already sick. There are a lot of things I could be reading: in particular, I bought a number of books on Reader’s Advisory which would help me out with work. I am concerned, though, about my vision, particularly when I’m looking at digital displays (e-books): if I read for too long, my vision blurs and doubles, and I can’t really get it to un-blur. I usually end up sleeping it off. It’s a bit disconcerting.

There is that 20-20-20 rule, where every 20 minutes you focus on something 20 feet away for 20 seconds, but in an interior environment, I do have to get up and find something that far away — like looking down a hallway. Generally, where I read, I don’t have anything that’s actually 20 feet away for me to focus on. It’s also extremely easy for me to lose track of time while I’m reading. 20-20-20 is easy when I’m reading something I don’t want to be reading, as it breaks up my reading time into short bursts. But when I’m actually absorbed; when the writing is actually good; it can be a bit difficult.

But if it will make it so that I can read for more than a couple of hours at a time, it will be worth it.

I’ve been intending to write in here over the past several days, but it has been a bit of a challenge, as I’ve also been questioning the use of sharing my inner thoughts with others. The difference between the way I feel now and the way I’ve felt before likely has to do with the fact that I’m more socially engaged on a daily basis.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but I have had a tendency to not have a lot of real-life friends. However, with the new job, I’m dealing with people almost constantly, including co-workers, patrons, and more distant colleagues. When I’m not at work, I have my family. It’s alleviated some of the need to be social.

On top of that, there are some upshots to communicating in ways that aren’t…you know, publicly recorded.

What I have been doing is writing by hand, but I’ve also been watching my blog languish. It’s just one of those things where, if I don’t see myself putting out some form of generativity or creativity, I get…well, a little sad. Since I’ve been blogging for over a decade at this point, I have a tendency to look online for evidence of my own existence.

The major issue I’m dealing with is anonymity, the lack of it; or possibly entering into a phase of my life where discretion matters. Either this, or I’m just experienced enough now to do things differently than I did as a youth. I knew the time at which I would know better, was coming. I’m just not sure now, at what time it’s going to actually fully kick in.

There is, that is, the question of what to do when you know that actions can elicit consequences, positive, negative, or neutral. As a youth, a person has the excuse of not knowing better. As an adult, one actually knows that they should know better, because they’ve made enough mistakes as a youth. And it helps when we can leave those mistakes behind.

In an era when we’re all free to publicly surveil ourselves and each other, however, I don’t know to what extent that is possible. Nor do I actually know to what extent it ever will be possible again, in my own lifetime.

So the thing about writing…is that it displays some of the innermost parts of one’s own sense of self, and experience of life, to others. Of course, some of this is by choice; a lot of it is unconscious. But it seems that to participate in public life, it’s required to show others a bit of who one is. While it is granted that in my later years of experience, this has been more positive than not — the earlier years were fairly nasty.

As a child, I learned that the more others knew about my own identity, the more accurately they could target attacks directed at me. So I learned sometime as a pre-teen to hold back information and promulgate disinformation, so that when they attacked me, they were (from my perspective) attacking someone else. They didn’t really know who I was, and that made it clear.

I haven’t had to do that for a while. The major difficulty here is not knowing who you are, because you’re too busy throwing people off your trail to practice being yourself. It wasn’t until around my 35th year that I began to get a good grasp on who I actually was. That, in turn, required a lot of unraveling social constructs, learning about people different from myself, and realizing that one of my most salient identities was not a positive, culturally preexisting statement, but a negation of multiple other identities. Despite that, it also includes elements of what I am not: I don’t force myself to conform wholly to being or not being one thing, because those “things” ultimately don’t exist. I have the choice to believe in them or not; I choose not to.

And then, there is the point that pretty much no matter what happens, this is the life I’ve got now, maybe the only one I’ll ever get; and that I really shouldn’t have shame about who I have been or who I am. It’s a work-in-progress. There’s also the point that it isn’t like anyone else is perfect, either. It’s kind of a “human condition” sort of thing.

Earlier tonight, I started to get into more depth on what I’m referencing…but those thoughts aren’t fully formed yet, and I know from past experience that maybe I should wait and think on them, and in three to five years, they’ll be fully formed and available for discourse. Until then, my discussions are speculation, because my thoughts and experience are relatively incomplete.

As a note to my future self, though: these thoughts are including the possibility of being agender/asexual (thus why I have spent so much time on the Internet without my body or sound with me, to code my gender) and having an atheist tendency (though I do have my own, “spiritual,” or at least, “contemplative,” bent; my beliefs have been challenged recently by the specter of our species destroying all life on this planet). I don’t think I would go nihilist, but there is the question right now of what is happening in this country and globally, that brings into question the value (particularly, pragmatic) of “faith” as versus the vulnerabilities that are inborn in faith.

But that’s another question. And I don’t have it in me to answer it, right now.