The Stars and the Cookie Jar

...well, until I get to work. Where I'm pretty sure the trumped-up 'cleaning list' includes deck-brushing the cafe floor. I'm sorry, Corporate really doesn't want me to deck-brush a soapstone floor once a week. If they did, they'd put it in the Corporate-issued duty roster.

But. Anyway. I'm not at work yet.

What could have been a bad night, last night, was diverted into something much better, and I now have a list of things to remember when I get into my little mental hamster wheel. Yes, I really am that simple. I think it's going to cut down on my having to be apologetic and/or reassured every step of the way, which makes everyone less tired.

And I didn't curl up in the shower.

Still fighting the urge to go and steal the moon, or something.

In heavy negotiations with maternal unit to oh my horrifyingly bloodthirsty Middle Eastern Neolithic Gods not make it a three-day trip so she can see museums.

I just need to stop pulling against myself. Myself and everybody. But I think what it is, is that selkies run away from what they love to what they need. What happens when both those things are in the one place? What do I do then?


There is a me you would not recognise, dear...