the thickness of the air

On Sundays I try to finish up whatever house work and chores are left, prep my work bag (snacks, water, wallet), set out the things to make the morning with Clayton easier (tea orbs, thermos, sandwich containers, etc.), and then as of recently, my clothes + overnight bag, with hairdryer and all the stuff to last me 1-3 nights at Jake's.

It felt a lil heavy, dragass today. Like, everything. Got some negotiating done for my client on the deal we're pursuing. Really excited for her to get this going, she's going to build her dream house. Oh, I picked up some hours doing drain cleaning stuff etc for some interim money. That's why this has been slow and why the work bag is super critical to.. survival.

Anyway. I love hazy, cloudy, foggy, gloomy days. I think they're magical. It's like the air is enchanted and almost... alive. Charged but not electrifying. It's why me and Seattle/Washington have a yearning love affair. Clouds and haze and fog for days. Makes my soul sing.

It snowed yesterday, too, a fair bit. Really heavy snow, burdensome. The kind that sticks to the tree branches and makes them droop and sag under its frigid white weight. But also one of the most gorgeous. It's like the trees themselves are white, fully; ethereal moss embracing them for just a moment before it withers and melts away, leaving behind the barky husk. I always thought trees in the winter looked like fucked lightning.

Anyway, despite the invigouration of the foggy mist, today felt heavy like the snow from yesterday. Why is the fog burdened with such sorrow?

Mmmh, I miss my boyfriend. Maybe that's why. He's sick, sorta, so I can't rush there, equipped with all the tools to stave off sore throats and sniffly noses, to be by his side. I'm not in a position to get sick. Well, he isn't either, but I can't prevent that part. Only my own, and it feels so.. selfish.

And so maybe he'll be better tomorrow, and I can see him after work, and we can flirt and hug, make dinner, give each other foot rubs and back scritches, unwind with a movie. It's his Friday night, and I love being around for that, even though I've got an early Tuesday and I'll probably be a little too tired the next day. But that's okay.

And I know he loves when the weather is like this. He's so moody, edgy, dark and gothy, and he's so gorgeous in the diffused pale light. He's stunning when the sun catches his hair and ignites the faint red undertones, but uhgg there's something even prettier when it's just the fullness of the clouds.

I think too, I've felt a little behind. Work is good, great, it helps me be a bit more active and feel less body-pain. So I love that part.

But I really need to go out and socialise, meet people, live, experience. Enjoy life. It's short and so am i gotem but there's some, barriers sometimes. I love driving but I hate driving downtown. I want to move. but I love my house. but clayton's work is so far away and so is my bofyriend. everything I want is so far away, towards the city, or even past it.

And so, depression and mental illness and all those writhing co-morbidities make things feel like mountains. Like walking around the house to get water, or playing with the cat, or putting up the laundry. None of those things are hard.

but they feel hard, sometimes. they feel hard when the fog feels heavy, when your lover is ill and you can't rush to their aid, when your partner is in a dark spot and it feels like your fault. when the money is tight, and the path to making some (and real estate as a business) feels abstract and hazy.

When I looked out the window at the fog, I felt it behind my eyes, deep in my mind. I wanted to close them and fall back into the waves of an endless ocean, and let it all circle around me and carry me off to some other place. It was such a sensation, like a low vibration, a humming, in my eyes but behind them, like the information from my retina has to drumble through this thick curtain, and it makes the whole world tremble

enjoy some pictures of outside, they’re kinda mid but whatevs