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The Wheel Keeps on Turning and Turning (Letting Go?)




spigots or caudrens  

114 members have voted

  1. 1. spigots or caudrens

    • spigots
    • caudrens
    • pie spoon
    • washer woman. shaped washer.

This poll is closed to new votes

[[Lyrics] [[



Two weeks of normalcy - check! Melly made it safely to her next stop in the Tour de Europe, and we're taking advantage of the reprieve to get caught up on a few bits and bobs. The most amazing of these is weeding through our clothing, and sorting out what's trash, what's for charity, and what is getting saved for Leah to play with when she's older.


I know that this doesn't sound like an odd thing for many people; I suspect most people go clothing shopping with more frequency than myself. I go... maybe twice a year, if that? I'll buy up a lot of new shirts, or jeans, or whatever I specifically need to replace. I'll buy socks more frequently, but that's not terribly unreasonable to do. But actually throwing things out? It's just... not something I do, heh. I'd still have letters and drawings from my childhood if the freak boiler meltdown at my parent's old house hadn't wiped out all my keepsakes and memories while I was in basic... and then they didn't tell me until half a year later, grumble. Not exactly the way to be washed clean of Nynaeve Al'Meara of Emond's Field, let me tell you... ;)


I can't recall if I've said it here before, so I'll potentially repeat myself - I am very very crap at letting go of things. If I were, I'd've been gone from this place half a decade ago. Instead, I let it yo-yo me on whatever tiny strands of affection remain; d'oh! You know what I said about abusive relationships earlier this week? Yeah, me being here is me not practicing what I preach, hee hee. ;) I know WHY I do, though - when you're moved all over America on the whimsy of druggie parents, you cling for whatever rocks you can find. There's a lot of conflict because of this, and I won't go into details; suffices to say that I'm working on forging an acceptance of the fact that this place will never be permitted to improve, and to work on ghosting my way free. *chuckles* It's letting go, sort of... just at a slower pace, like a child being weened off of a pacifier (soother, dummy, call it what you will!).


Anyways, I went far afield - I do tend to do that. The moral of the story is - I have clear drawers? No, that's not quite it, either... I'm not sure what it is, if there is any. I guess that I'm fortunate enough to actually have found a solid place in my real life to call home where I'm actually happy (1982-2007 = NOT HAPPY), so it's curiously pleasant and frightening to be able to figure this sort of thing out, to not need to cling to everything so tightly. I guess maybe, if there is a moral, it's to not take for granted the things you DO have?




I think I'll go pay reverence to my can of Dr. Pepper - I definitely don't take that deliciousness for granted! ;)





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