annie's microblog

biden needs a nap, donald needs a straitjacket

trump just called biden “a very bad palestinian” so okay

OH MY GOD CAN WE PLEASE PUT A WOMAN IN CHARGE ALREADY. IT IS 2024

dying throes of a colonizing empire sure are ugly

after birth? wtf is he talking about

donald is so dumb, biden is so old, i am so depressed

Books I read through the divorce process. The progression is 🤣

How small that is, with which we wrestle,
what wrestles with us, how immense;
were we to let ourselves, the way things do,
be conquered thus by the great storm,—
we would become far-reaching and nameless.

What we triumph over is the Small,
and the success itself makes us petty.
The Eternal and Unexampled
will not be bent by us.

…growth is: to be the deeply defeated
by ever greater things.

Rilke, The Man Watching

Finished reading: A Life of Meaning by James Hollis, Ph.D. 📚

We swim in the mystery, and we have to track the movement of Divinity through the tangible world, to try to track the role of the unconscious powers—which by definition is something we don’t know—to see them as they manifest in our dreams, our bodies, our patterns; and to realize we are carriers, humble carriers of the life force that has little interest in our comfort or certainties.

Mandy Brown, Gather your gossips:

Capitalism needed to disparage women’s talk in order to bring itself about because women’s talk—that is, talk that is liberatory, reciprocal, and mutual—is a powerful antidote to the violence, oppression, and theft that capitalism ushered in. That same disparaging force is at work today, in the forces toiling feverishly to restrict reproductive rights and to reinforce the gender binary—because the gender binary is a load-bearing pillar of capitalism. But as the edict to prohibit “babble” attests, only by isolating women, by preventing them from talking, from sharing their experiences with one another, from acting in concert, can that pillar be defended.
This represents an opportunity: if capitalism needs women to be quiet, then women talking is one key to ending capitalism.

Observed while driving L to school:

1. A young woman walking her dog. She keeps glancing at her dog with this sweet, satisfied half-smile like she's just so pleased and happy to have this particular little dog.
2. School crossing guard dancing a little jig while waiting for more students who need to cross.
3. BMW with a personalized license plate that says MEOW. Beside it, a bumper sticker that just says CATS with a heart above it.

Finished reading: Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson 📚

I hated waiting. If I had one particular complaint, it was that my life seemed composed entirely of expectation. I expected–an arrival, an explanation, an apology. There had never been one, a fact I could have accepted, were it not true that, just when I had got used to the limits and dimensions of one moment, I was expelled into the next and made to wonder again if any shapes hid in its shadows. That most moments were substantially the same did not detract at all from the possibility that the next moment might be utterly different. And so the ordinary demanded unblinking attention. Any tedious hour might be the last of its kind.

Knowing is a great strength and also a form of pleasure.

Currently reading: Getting Lost by Annie Ernaux 📚

Finished reading: As Nature Made Him by John Colapinto 📚

This one will stay with me. True story. Heartbreaking. An infant boy’s botched circumcision leads to him being raised as a girl, alongside his twin brother. The medical gaslighting is infuriating. Turns out forcing a gender on someone is bad.

I started freelance writing because of the flexibility.

For all the years my kids were babies, and on through several years of homeschooling, I got to be home with them. The bulk of my time was spent taking care of the kids. My work got tucked in at the edges. It was pretty exhausting, honestly. (Having little kids is exhausting by itself. But I digress.)

We needed the extra income and this was something I could do on my own terms, at home. When I started there were plenty of oddball offers and pennies-per-page gigs and scams but there was also a lot of legitimate basic work. I could earn enough money to make a difference.

Over time I developed more skills and gained more experience. I specialized and raised my rates. I got referrals and set up long-standing agreements with clients and editors. Things got steadier and easier but I still had lots of projects, lots of clients, lots of flexibility. Also, lots of logistics, lots of deadlines, lots of emails, lots of juggling, lots of urgency.

Late last year, I started a full-time role for one of my clients and I’m quite happy with it. Everything is simplified and I like that. I used to love the experience of diving into a new project, getting to know new clients, understanding a new vertical or specific subject area. Now it just makes me tired, honestly. I’m less interested in broad and much more interested in deep.

I still work remotely, asynchronous. On my own terms, in charge of my own schedule. I’m not required to track hours or log keystrokes (thank god). But without the urgency of juggling multiple deadlines for multiple clients all the time, sometimes I really struggle to stay focused, to say no to distractions, to keep myself on task, to not jump up for every interruption. To have boundaries, in other words. To be a little more rigid, so I can protect my time and my attention.

I didn’t realize how much I relied on urgency as a substitute for structure. It wasn’t good. I don’t recommend it. So now I’m learning, or trying to learn, how to give myself structure, how to set limits. Flexibility has served me well. I needed it. Now I need to shift into something different.

If my body is currency I will spend it on myself.
If my body is property I will own it myself.
If my body is a place I will live in it myself.
If my body is a fantasy it is for my own dreams.
If my body is for birthing, I choose what it brings forth.
If my body is a tool, I will use it to shape my life the way I want.
If my body is for service, I am the master.

From yesterday’s hiking church. I could listen to this for hours.