I tend to get quiet when I'm anxious, which isn't exactly conducive to blogging about mental illness, now is it? But here I am on Sunday evening, running on about four hours of sleep, trying to figure out how to talk about anything.
Since I'm failing at talking about my OCD, I'll talk about something else instead. I owe that much to my loyal readers.
Amber and I spent yesterday yard sailing. It was an interesting day - she got a designer purse for three dollars and a few other spectacular finds. I got us a new router, which I thought would fix our internet issues, but now I'm not so sure. I also got a sunburn on my right arm, the result of too much time spent following vague signs and arrows with the car windows down.
Yard sailing is a lot like divination in that sense. Sometimes there's an address, sometimes there are pretty good directions, but most of the time there's not, and unless you can see it from where you are, there's almost always that moment where you realize you have no fucking clue where you're going to end up and wonder why you're even trusting these flimsy pieces of cardstock.
Or maybe that's just me.
One of the yard sales we stopped at featured an array of Greek and Egyptian statuary. It was really surprising and I wondered whether to say anything to the homeowner, but in the end I just complimented his taste.
At the last stop of the day, I found a jeweler's hammer. Its the little things like that that matter, I think.
Speaking of crafting, this week I think I'm going to try woodcarving and see if I'm capable of doing it without cutting any fingers off. Wish me luck!