I’m awake rather early, for me, this morning. The young man who supposedly does the lawn and who was going to do the flower beds has finally shown up. In his mind, that’s my fault. In my mind, he was supposed to be here in the middle of July when he told me he would be done with another job and have time to start the beds. And even before that, when he said he’d be here to spray the weeds in the rocks. But, one way or the other, the jungle is coming down again today. He said he’d be here yesterday but, hell, he’s here. This is the nature of trying to get anything done down here. When I spoke to him last Wednesday, he said he didn’t think he could do the beds because he can’t get a trailer down here. Sigh. I expect I am going to be looking for another landscaper and nothing much is getting done this year.
One of my projects for the day is to break the boxes down from all the stuff that has come lately. Shopping online is really convenient and I have several things, like cat food, that come every month or every other month. That and the stuff I ordered last week (All-Clad pan is here!) has all come at the same time and I’ve got boxes stacked up in the family room. Sometimes I wish I lived upstairs. Where the trash cans are.
I had an insight yesterday, by the way, when I was bullshitting my way through a confusing reply to Snoskred. She wrote about the beauty inside concept and I have, over the past few days, felt really uncomfortable with that. I tried to say that I don’t feel beautiful inside – but that’s not exactly it. And I realized later that it’s the word. I am really uncomfortable with the word beautiful. You’re a beautiful person, people say, and I’m instantly uncomfortable and reacting against the word. I don’t know why. Perhaps it is simply that I associate beautiful with physical attributes. At any rate, I suddenly saw that it was the word, not the concept of being beautiful inside that I was having a problem with. Even the negative voices in my head have nothing really to do with how I react. It’s just the word.
For whatever reason, I don’t have the same association/reaction to the word lovely. I’m a lovely person. Okay. I may shrug it off a bit. I kind of suck at accepting compliments, but I can feel lovely. More or less. While lovely can mean beautiful, it means much more than that to me.
A small, yet interesting insight. And I’m off to go wrestle with cardboard.