Storm's aBrewin'

I haven't been very forthright lately. I think this is mostly due to a sense that complaining about my current situation does nothing in aid of ameliorating it. Because don't get me wrong: complaining about my current career path, or at least this particular stretch of it, is in no way a bid to quit. The work itself is, well, intern work. This doesn't mean I hate it; on the contrary, I simply feel underused, and worry that I don't have the opportunity to exercise my other talents. No, the internship itself is not the problem. It's perhaps the definitive knowledge that this is a new stage. I have talents and value now that I didn't see or have before. Some things that seemed insurmountable are so easy. I can take things by storm if I want to, and I managed to get to this point in a field that I love. But the fact of the matter is, this is not an ideal situation. I've mentioned my daily schedule, and I'm doubly burdened by the fact that this was my choice. Every day I wake up and think that if I just lived in Toronto I could sleep in for another three hours, but. When I get there, my discomfort is overwhelming.  It's not Toronto's fault, guys. I know plenty of people love it. But just as in Vancouver, where when asked how I liked living there I invariably answered "well... it's... um... actually, I don't," I don't mean it personally, or that I actively hate anything about it. I'm just not a city girl.

But what's THAT in aid of? Well, nothing. I'll have to move there anyway. My only hope is that having a small box to call my own, in which to read and have quiet and be unseen for a little while each day will make Toronto bearable, and will fix the funk I've been in. It's not a depressive funk, not really. On weekends I experience a strange inability to speak, which may be an unwillingness to talk about work coupled with a lack of any other subject matter. This turns into indulgence, of course. Not of booze or anything else, but indulging in nothingness. In not having conversation trickling in to every moment of the day, no outside noise, no irritating need for decorum or professionalism. It is not sad, this funk. I love it. I love the quiet, and I love it in what feels like an almost ruthless and cruel way. I will fight for it. I will lie and cheat and steal to get my fix. I cannot go out, I might moan, for I am exhausted from the travel. To my delight, it works every time.

Well, it is true. It's exhausting. In any case, I'm finding it to be tremendous motivational. I don't have to lie or cheat or steal because all I really need to do is get a paying job. If I get a place to myself in Toronto then I'll have SO much time to myself and to feel like this that, yes, I'll likely get bored of it and stop being so antisocial and brooding. I'm not turning into a supervillain, although it sort of feels like it. So. The best way out of this is up.

In other news, MomBlom's garden is filling out nicely!

The clematis is going just INSANE for some reason, but we haven't been able to figure out why. I feel like his chair might have a bee problem because of it. Wouldn't know though: haven't sat in it.

This is what is officially the last peony of the year. Pure white and slow-growing, but perfect. Once it's gone, it might as well just be Christmas though, I mean what's the point.

Oh yeah. Now it's the time of year for the best gardening of all! Functional (i.e. delicious) plants!

Ever wondered what a baby cucumber looks like? This little guy is maybe an inch long:

Now you know.

That was fast.

I'm so sick of 2013.

I know, I know, it's barely March.

But after losing my dog, going through regular old-fashioned heartbreak, and now having my apartment broken into, it's hard to feel safe and warm and happy.

And even my cheer-up shopping trip ended in this:

It was only the second time I'd worn it and no, I didn't snag it on anything. It just happened.

There are bright sides, of course. There's fun, there are new people, there are a ton of "at leasts." At least I had my brand new laptop with me at school when they broke in. At least I hadn't popped home for that shower like I was debating. At least the chain of my favourite necklace (most value both in fact and in sentiment) broke last winter and so was safely in Ontario, waiting for repair. At least I've moved away from home before. At least I've lost friends and people before. At least I know I have myself through all of it. 

But still. There are reasons I miss the people I miss, and reasons I love the people I love. The best of new friends and lofty aspirations can't replace them, or help me forget that it's the old best friends, the family, the dog and the boyfriend, the instruments, the boardgames, the house I grew up in, laughter and hugs and above all the security and love of home that I need right now. 

Time is passing. I'm getting things done. Good things still loom on the horizon. And I'm coping. But I'm only coping. 

AGAIN!

Again with the making crafts out of an ENTIRE BALL OF YARN.

This one actually isn't so bad because you can just stick a pine cone in the top and take it out after Halloween. Orange isn't SUCH a bad colour.

But then there's the suggestion of glue-gunning it in. WHY?! NO! DON'T! If you don't actually knit and won't use the yarn give it to me! I'll use anything! I can't afford tons of yarn! I'll do pretty things! Things that require more styling than putting balls in a basket!

And again, this one really isn't so bad. But if I EVER. see another yarn ball wreath, I WILL confiscate all of the crafting supplies I find at the scene.