Notes from my Black
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Don’t get confused
We spent much of Saturday sitting at the table. I got to hear a few hours of how I fail in the relationship. When she got her fill, we parted ways only to start back up in the basement for a few more hours.
We spent Sunday ignoring Saturday and getting prepared for the upcoming freeze. We both busted our asses. Our son painted the walls of my shop with washable paints, played with a gallon of bubbles, and drew with chalk on the concrete. His willingness to hang with us but do his own thing allowed us to check off a ton of things on our must do list.
-repotted all the plants that were outside that needed to come in. This keeps the bugs from coming with the plants.
-weather used the porch.
-gathered leaves… didn’t get them hauled off yet.
Still need to fix the pond pump- new pump hasn’t arrived. Still have 3 panels to put up in the porch.
Anyway, we got along. We always do when we are working hard. I feel like that space we gave Saturday was like a hangover day… and not actually genuine to getting along. It’s like we got along out of necessity, not resolution.
At some point, a 10 minute conversation about my failures is going to have to suffice. I don’t have the energy or willingness to sit though extended berations anymore.
My whole everything is sore today but my lower back took a beating. I feel like an old man today.
In other news- my 9 day streak of selling at least one book ended yesterday. I was excited to see the run, even if it was 1-3 books a day. It was fun to watch… like a game of refresh the page every hour and see if it sold.
I have another bit of weirdness that happened over the weekend. This was a left field compliment that was polar opposite to my Saturday experience. It was a nice reminder that I may be a shit show, but I’m also not a shit show in ways that also matter.