unreplicatable

It’s Monday, the sun is shining (for the moment), the news is on, and Chaucer is crying because lizards exist.

I managed to sort out my room. Somewhat, anyway. I went through one box – the makeup box – and threw out a lot of things last week. There’s a second box ready to be tossed as well. However, I’m adding trash to it as I clean, because that seems to be the way I work best. Honestly, I just need an empty house for an afternoon. I hate cleaning while people are in the house because I feel like they’re judging me.

I ditched a handful of eyeshadow palettes. I’ve been living without them for 18 months. Obviously, they’re not the most important in my collection. Additionally, I’ve hit pan in the most useful shades. I considered transferring some of the fuller pans from each and condensing them into a single palette. Then I thought, fuck that, I haven’t used these shades and I don’t need these shades.

At this point, I plan to leave here one day, spend a few nights on the road, and meet Shawshank‘s mom five days later. She’ll take my bigger things – some kitchen stuff, my air compressor, the quilts she made us.

I had a good night spinning poi in the front yard. The worst problem I had was forgetting to actually hit RECORD on my phone, and missing a lot of neat moves that I managed to do accidentally. Shit like that can’t be replicated.

With the plans to be in Suchweatythong in the calendar, I want to get this while I can. Mom made me promise not to spin in Motel 6 parking lots because she doesn’t want me bringing too much attention to myself.