Whore-Bag of Leisure

It's true---I have osmosed into the lay-about I was terrified of lapsing into---with relish!

Let me do-tell first, before admonishing my losing of ambition, abandoning of work ethic, and submersing into magazines.

I am regularly attending an early morning yoga/pilates class, 3 a week. (there!)
Items are being ticked off the endless TO DO list.
I am reading re-invention books, researching work-at-home stuff online, getting ideas of things to do for money, and staying on the phone to get the Company to finally pay me off. It is taking longer than any of us thought, and more hounding.
The dreaded futon cover project has begun.
My computer update project is now running smoothly, geekgods be praised!!
Almost every sticker signifying personal property brought to company property has been removed from my music and the boxes are all unpacked.

There have also been flashes of insight that don't make the scale of worthy endeavors clunk with significance, but they are gathering around me like fireflies and stay with me, which is a comforting change from life of a month ago. Being permanently distracted was more debilitating than I could ever have imagined, and sometimes a few of those great ideas of months/years back will surface, and I'm happy to be here to notice this time.

Another curious item is how much my tastes have changed in the last 5 years or so, and again, I was way too busy/stressed/tired to notice. I went to Fabric Depot to look around for futon couch cover fabric the other day, and was split into "that was me" choices, and "This is me now" selections. I was there for three hours, which is another way of time-spending I couldn't afford in the old life, mostly to wander and demonstrate to myself the variations in what would have been in the cart before and now. I found some bright pillow cover yardage of three flower patterns for the tropical bedroom quilt, and a natural flax and henna mid-asian paisley pattern for the living room futon couch. I got a sari-patch bag and found rose rope and ribbon to re-do the handles and lining, and pink thread, fuchsia cotton with loud yellow marigolds like India flower leis---pink. Wow.

Maybe it's the yoga---I want to be that willowy Gaiam yoga chick. She looks great in the rose stretchy yoga clothes. Law of Attraction, right? The XLs come in sage, maybe I'll just start there and work to rose. What I love about my gym is the diversity of folks, I'm kinda in the middle of the age & shape spectrum, and we all just do the class, no pontificating. And that rapturous hot tub. Honestly, that's all the Blessed Rapture I need, and I do not ever want to see Richard Richard anywhere near MY Rapture, he can have his own. Bless 'im.

More Whore-Baggage is on the docket, namely a plot to kidnap an unwitting victim (sort-of) and abscond with her to the (gasp) EAST SIDE OF THE RIVER and submit her to endless rounds of shops, eateries, neighborhood funkiness, visiting of ex-colleagues, thrift stores and general mayhem. Maybe even a $2 movie at the Bagdad. Definitely alcohol. And Gregs to laugh at cards. OMG!!! Keeping my sights as ever on the escapades of the Almighty Whore-Bag, I am cranking up the power on the Whore-Baggery Generator, to create the glorious work-from-home life I have glimpsed at rare moments and desire beyond all reason, for myself here in the funky Southeast. There remains a sense of urgency for this, thank god, because I am tired of waiting. For anything. Anymore. It really is my time.