monday musings

today i woke up late, and as it always does the odd time or two when i sleep past 10, it threw off my entire day. when i sleep in, i feel like i wander around in a perpetual fog, unable to kickstart myself into any sort of productive rhythm. i was still in my cat hair-covered bathrobe by 2, having made a stab at drinking a pot of coffee and eating a few bowls of oatmeal, trying to finish watching syriana for the third day in a row.

the morning blurred from its low, grey, damp state into the afternoon. after wandering from my computer in the bedroom through the living room to the kitchen a few dozen times, i finally shook myself and got dressed, and got out of the house.

i was going to get my hair cut, but the little middle-eastern place where i get it done is closed on mondays.

i was going to go buy some winter clothes so i could stop layering my tank tops, but the sign i saw for reitmans was actually just a bill board.

i went to my work to buy groceries and ended up getting scheduled for the rest of the week. it's good - i need the money, and my boss ended up telling me how much she likes me. job security is good.

money. funny what an insidious worry it is. i never thought, growing up, that i would be the kind of person who would worry about money, but i guess that's just part and parcel of being bad with it, living on your own, and trying to make sure there's enough of it to get by.

the past week i've come to realize how much i love my home. trying to think of why i love it so much is difficult to describe. it has hardwood floors (which i refuse to cover) and large windows (ditto) that face south, and get lots of light. i've stocked the window ledges with plants and crystals and candle holders. my sister's art hangs on the walls.
i've carried on some family traditions. my mother loved to listen to the radio in the kitchen because HER mother did, so i do too. (and love it.) i keep a rooster in there too, because in some tradition it's considered lucky. i have a chubby cat as my constant companion who sleeps on the $10 rug i got from ikea and who eats my leftovers without compunction.

in the past 8 years i haven't lived anywhere longer than 6 months. 8 if you count the last place i lived in, where the last 2 months were spent mostly in b.c. more than anything now, i feel like i need a home, and this place has been magical for me. it's allowed me to do a lot of healing within its walls - hardcore and sometimes uncomfortable healing, but healing nonetheless.

i feel safe here. safe in more than just the physical sense; something spiritual in me matches up with the energy of this place. i have lived here now for five months. in another four, my super is going to come and ask me if i want to renew my lease. i want to say yes, every fibre in my being wants to stay here, but the simple fact of the matter is i doubt i will be able to afford it, unless something drastic happens with my finances.

it makes me sad. i still don't feel like i've moved in completely, (the walls are still kind of bare, i haven't committed to the amethyst bedroom i dreamed of), and i'm already somewhat saying goodbye.

beyond this bit of melancholy, i know a few things: i know that what is meant to happen will happen; i know that my 'home' doesn't really matter, that my home is with my loved one; that i can take it all down and put it all back up again and the new place will be just as...new. as good.

the universe will take care of me, i know that, i just wish a miracle could happen.