Itchy Inside

I've been working my dailies daily... just like their little name implies.  I've been doing the hard ones and the good ones and the soothing ones.
Pray -connect with God.
Read scriptures
Connect with self -yoga, journal, take a meaningful walk fraught with introspection
Eat a healthy breakfast
Stay off social media from 5pm -10pm

It's been good, it's been good FOR me. 

But these last few days, I've been crawling inside of my skin.  I've been rearranging everything and snapping at people who don't need snapping at (who DOES, actually?)...

My chi -which I've recently discovered is A REAL THING -is OFF 100%.  Where my gut usually directs my decorating and my decisions, I'm fuzzy.

Today after spending hours redecorating my kitchen -one of my favorite rooms in my little trailer -I just HATED it.  Every jot and tittle.
And guess what?  KITCHENS DON'T MATTER.  In the great scheme of eternity and THE BIG PICTURE, my kitchen is not important.
So WHY?  Why am I wringing my hands and fussing over something I usually can decorate in a flash the way I like it?

It hit me in the middle of a pile of lace and hammer and nails: I haven't written.

In all of my dailies, I haven't let my fingers feel the click-clack they hunger for, beg for!  I haven't taken time out of a rainy afternoon to let words flow.  I've journaled with my pen, but for me -I don't care what the experts say -I NEED THIS KEYBOARD.

And as that realization hit, my soul was wracked with pain and sorrow and every other diva emotion a girl can be DROWNED with because my computer is BROKEN and we can't buy a new one because my body is BROKEN, so our money is going to medical bills.
All of the money.
Except the little we are setting aside to throw a fiesta for my 30th next weekend.

I will have a new computer soon, but I don't have one now and my Step 4 was VERY clear about my patience.
*ahem* my LACK of patience.

And then, like magic, like the magic beans that Jack's mother threw down in frustration... my computer which was on but refusing to give me anything but a BLACK STARE booted up.
Apparently, my husband has a little trick that sometimes works and sometimes doesn't and today it did because

Jesus loves me.
And Danny is sick of me itching on the inside and rearranging the house.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got more typing to do on my other blog.  I've also got to move 2,000 (not exagerrating) pictures from my phone to my dying computer.

I've ALSO got to tear everything off of the walls in my kitchen.
Because my CHI IS NOT AT EASE.

Hopefully after I've typed and gotten stories out and my skin quits crawling inside of me, I'll stop caring about the kitchen walls.

Self-care is of the utmost, and here's my reminder to me:

DO THE RIGHT KIND, Alicia.
And make sure that the next 25 paychecks go directly into savings for a new computer.

"A life with death inside and chi-wrecking walls outside is no life at all." ~Alicia Deets

It's too yellow!
Too old lady!
Not enough eclectic, like I had mapped out in my mind!

Maybe after I'm done writing, I'll embrace the COTTAGEness of it and have a hot cup of tea while I work on things that actually matter like love and family and the state of the union.
Maybe.