08/05/2026
I finally dumped out the last vase of fuzzy, slick stems from the flowers my friends had sent me, today. What’s left is a buffet of deconstructed dried petals and leaves that I don’t have concrete plans to use for anything in particular, but can’t bring myself to discard.
Where lies the line between being a hoarder and being someone who just sees value in things other people don’t? If it’s based on whether or not you have the space to keep collecting - I crossed it a while ago. In that case, I suppose it’s very on-brand of me not to be very bothered by it, haha.
I should do something with them, though. I could make paper, or pigment, or tinctures or cast some spells or send them in letters…?
Tomorrow marks 4 weeks since my hysterectomy. Time has actually flown by, and I am devastated to find that this is exactly the kind of life I was built for: 8 hrs of sleep a night, slow mornings with the sunrise, no noise for the first 2 hours of my day, researching interesting topics and making things with my hands. (I know this is a cold take, haha.) But, this rhythm really feels like home to me.
Unfortunately, I went and became an adult with responsibilities like a freaking chump - so until further notice, y’all can find me clickity clacking away on my laptop, crafting cover letters the likes of which hopefully no prospective employer has ever seen (in a good way)!
