#bombcyclone

I took my coffee in the bath this morning, and it was glorious. After some morning, snow-day sex, I went to shower myself clean but on second thought, a bath seemed much more appealing. Much better for soaking all the nooks and crannies and warming you up from head to toe before slipping into your winter thermals. My sweet partner had already made us coffee so I decided to take my time with the cleansing and enjoy my coffee hot & steaming. I guess this is what qualifies as ‘self-care’, although cleansing ones’ body has long been a component of taking care of ones’ self, irrespective of the hype. But add a coffee, and the indulgent enjoyment of doing both simultaneously, and you’ve got a grammable situation. When outside is a sea of shiny, white chaos in a blizzard they’re calling the historic “bomb-cyclone”, I’ll take my snow-day indulgence. I came back from France two days prior just for this after all…

And indulgent it is, but an indulgence that lends itself to gratitude. Gratitude that I can wake up to a warm apartment, knowing that even if it’s way below freezing outside, my ancient radiator will still be pumping out heat; that my landlord will be outside shoveling snow so that our sidewalk doesn’t become a deathtrap tomorrow; that I get to wake up and have delicious morning sex with my favorite person, or really just to wake up together, sex or not. And, that I can then consider taking my morning coffee in the bath, as a routine. Because I had the day off anyways, and I’m grateful for that assurance when they gave warnings of the storm to come, and my industry requires me most when it’s for the leisure & revelry of others.

I find this hard at times though: to reconcile gratitude with striving for more. I find myself in a quicksand of self-loathing more often than not, but I’m ready to dig myself out.
And 2018 is the year
I figure
my
shit
out.
It’s the year I learn to make home a more productive place, or to find out if it’s simply just not, and that coffee shops & libraries are still the true cave of my heart/mind/spirits’ flourishing.
It’s the year that I miraculously change my body clock, going to bed and getting up earlier. (Holding on to this time change, jet lag magic to jump-start that process!!)
It’s the year I make the most of a day, in whatever form that ‘most’ takes, but minimizing my time spent on my small, blue-lit smart box.
It’s the year I see what this country has to offer by traveling its depth with my partner in life and love.
It’s the year I spend more time with my family.
It’s the year I talk to people- ask them questions, ask myself questions, and demand answers of myself.
It’s the year I reverse all other years of self-learning in denying expectations, by setting goals and making plans and letting myself revel in the joy and excitement of doing so.
It’s the year myself and my partner start eating like grownups, with normal meal times and healthy food and a fridge stocked with more than just condiments and eggs.
It’s the year I start baking again- for a marathon Christmas cookie session reminded me how much I enjoy it and how much it truly puts me in my body and focuses my mind unlike anything else these days.

And again for the fourth year in a row since satisfying my dream of moving to this insane city, it’s the year I write more, and say yes as often as possible.

Finally, 2018 is the year I’m not afraid to call these declarations, but resolutions.

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