Eyes Are Like Champagne

It just feels psychotic that I'm actively trying to set theory to sixty minutes of my day aside, multiple days a week just to be miserable.

Two days ago I was full of anxiety because there was so much to do between now and October (wedding/moving in/etc).

This morning I tell him I need more time to relax and he's pushing for us to do too much.

I mean wtf is he supposed to do with that? After the first conversation he cleaned the house he lives in and decided to take this afternoon off to get more stuff done. Amazing, 10 out of 10 listening and doing skills. He is very task oriented which I love. Problem is, then he's like "we can do x, y, and z over the weekend" and I'm like that's too much with the other plans we have. In my defense, I very much need down to regulate. And we have a lot of non house/wedding plans this weekend and I will have very little down. So I'm literally just sitting there like I know I'm giving mixed messages right but I don't think there's a solution either way so much as I need to listen to my body.

In my defense, looking at my calendar I've had three maybe four days in the past three weeks where I wasn't doing something. And that's not even technically true just some of the things were quick things so I'm considering those to be free days. Plus the universe has conspiring against me when it comes to sleeping. I'm feeling socially drained (which is wild for me) and exhausted.

And bless him, he just listens to me being completely impossible and is like, cool, vibes it is. Just let me know what you want to do when.

He is the only man that could have convinced me getting married (to him specifically ) was worth it and thus have to wedding plan.

There's too many options. If someone sat me down with a catalogue and told me to just put something together that would be great. It's inventing something whole cloth that's exhausting.

I never pictured my wedding. So it's truly creating it out of nothing. And I'm a DIYer, I don't like that shit. I'm not an event decorator. Ask me for an outfit, I've got you. Interior design, that is so my shit, I've had 100 ideas for the new house. But wedding, nope.

I should go to the gym but what I really want is to soak in a bath and read a book.

And the solution is bowls. I love rice and I love throwing different shit on rice. I've got little containers that I put everything in. Which means I can just grab the container and heat it up. No extra dishes and I can eat at my desk (a bad habit I have but I usually stop working around four so I eat through lunch).

Is it healthy? Am I hitting macros? Enough protein? How many carbs? Who knows. I never understood any of that shit. Food is a mystery to me and always has been. Proteins almost definitely not because my partner it vegan/vegetarian so I'm backing off of meat but hate tofu.

Anyway, my lunch bowl is good and I have three more in my fridge. Hell yeah!

I'm also kind of a bitch because I initially said I was going to do it for my partner too since he usually cooks dinners but I did it once, doubled the recipe and he finished it in one or two days. I haven't done it since. He eats soooo much more than I do in a sitting. It was too much food to haul to his place and my funds are more limited than his. When we live together I'll do it for both of us.

One thing I've been thinking about but never got around to voicing, is that I think I've figured out part of why all clothes feel like they look like shit on me and it's not about me. Nothing has any structure any more. Clothes are missing zippers and buttons, anything that would account for the normal dips and curves of the body. I noticed this when I was dressing shopping for my engagement party. I bought two dresses. The first was all polyester which isn't always bad, but it was the cheapest, thinnest, crap I've ever touched. The print looked like cheap screen printing. And this was a full price dress, like $80 from a company I usually trust. (They don't make their own clothes but the ones they source are usually good quality.) I returned it without even putting it on my body and left a low star review. Then I bought another dress from Cider, which is always being advertised to me and has a good Trustpilot score (I always check anything I see ads for because I don't trust the internet). It fit, in the loosest sense of the word but since it had no zippers or buttons, it clung to largest parts of me and floated around everything else. Since I have a large chest I sized for that, leaving my smaller waist invisible under the boxiness of material that just hung down with nothing to give it any shape. I had noticed this back in the fall, shopping for pants at TJ Maxx. Everything is held on by elastic, so it's all far too clingy to be flattering because the cling is the only thing keeping it on your body. I want to stress, I am not buying cheap clothing. I intentionally pay higher prices to attempt to get better materials and clothes that hopefully weren't made in sweat shops. I don't know if this lack of anything that would make clothes flattering is a cost cutting capitalism thing, or a post covid, prioritizing comfort over form (or even just basic put togetherness) or what. But I don't like it.

Second, my underwear drawer has needed a refresh for months now and back to what feels like a prioritizing of cozy culture, underwear fashion seems to have tipped into all full coverage, cotton or polyester or whatever with print on it type styles. No mesh or lace or sexy details to be found. It has the vibes of the underwear I got as a little girl, the multipacks at Walmart. Gross. Even Torrid, which I'd been stoked to discover last time I needed new underwear, was doing this. But I checked them again the other day and while they didn't have a ton of sexier (for lack of a better word) selection they had some in stock. So that was a relief.

I'm somewhat prone to slight cystic acne, usually in the cheek area. I've been told this is an endometriosis symptom. I have always enjoyed picking so it doesn't bother me too much because it's very mild, I pop them, apply my make up, you can't see it. This was next level and it's only gotten worse. My face looks like the topography setting of Google maps and it's spreading to my neck and chest.

The medical side of the internet insists probiotics don't cause acne, in fact "they are often used to treat it" according the AI summary I don't trust but can't get rid of. The skincare side of reddit says otherwise. Loads of anecdotes of cystic acne when starting probiotics. While I don't listen to anecdotal evidence for taking medicine, I do listen to it when it comes to symptoms because I think the medical industry is kind of dismissive of mild ones.

Broke my heart how scared this baby was this morning. I didn't want to displace him but I didn't have the materials or tools to secure the hole he was using to get into my literal house.

I did wake up early to check the trap, and threw a big blanket over the cage so he could be in the dark and quiet. My future father in law showed up quickly and took him to a new spot in some woods somewhere.

I hate it here

I still find it so eye bleeding, brain hemorrhagingly boring.

I feel like I'm drowning in the blood being spilled in a way the men making the decisions clearly do not.