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Notice Anything Different?

December 9, 2012

pfern <3 bokeh
Photo by Heather Wizell. Used under a creative commons license.

I put the Red Stapler on hiatus and made a new header. I realized the stapler was a symbol of my oppression as an office worker, and I’m not feeling oppressed anymore, so – onward.

And anyway, I had to do SOMETHING. I’m in a funk, I’ll admit it. I have been dragging my sorry butt through the days, just getting through everything, none of it particularly enjoyable.

I hate to say it, because on the surface everything is ok and the same and fine. I’m so blessed in so many ways, and I remind myself of that all day long. But underneath…blah. I don’t feel like doing anything.

Still, the other day I felt something stirring way down deep, like a little tightened-up fern uncurling and reaching out in the spring time. Still fragile, still wrapped up, but a possibility of some growth and change.

I don’t know what it will be or where I’m going. But that little ferny feeling is what I’m hanging onto.

  1. December 9, 2012 08:05

    I know you’ve been struggling, so I love seeing that fiddlehead up there. I’m going through my own chrysalis right now, and it’s comforting to see someone else there, too, even if I’d prefer that we were both on the other side already.

    • December 9, 2012 14:11

      I think of you so much. I’m glad to know you’re there.

  2. Elisa Camahort Page permalink
    December 9, 2012 08:18

    It seems to be that you’ve been grieving, don’t you think?

    • December 9, 2012 14:10

      Well, given that your comment made me burst into tears, I’d say it’s a pretty good guess.

      • December 9, 2012 14:14

        Oh, I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intent. I just know that even now (like when reading your comment) I still get hit with that grief…years later.

        It took me four years later to bring another furry friend into my house. And he kind of adopted me…he just showed up one day in our backyard and wouldn’t leave. What was I to do?

        I would never underestimate the impact of the loss of our companions.

        • December 9, 2012 17:04

          Oh, no, Elisa – I never took your comment to mean anything other than kind caring. It just hit me with the realization that yes, yes, grieving. Not a funk…not depression or boredom. Grieving.

          This is the problem with communicating in writing. I wish we could be face-to-face. Then you could hand me a Kleenex, too.


  3. Ruth Putney permalink
    December 9, 2012 09:18

    The fiddlehead is a perfect image — I’ve been going through a similar time and the sight of this fern about to unfurl is deeply gratifying!

    • December 9, 2012 14:10

      It was something I’ve been fiddling around with. Sorry – could not resist.

  4. December 9, 2012 09:48

    Good transition. I always wondered why the red stapler.

    • December 9, 2012 14:09

      Thanks. I will kind of miss the stapler, but it was time.

  5. December 9, 2012 10:50

    Know the feeling, girlfriend. Hang on…..

  6. December 9, 2012 11:20

    I’m with Elisa, plus I wonder if the unfurling is bringing you closer to being ready for another furry friend.

    ‘Tis the season to feel pretty tightly coiled even under the best of circumstances, so I think it’s awesome you’re bucking the trend. 🙂

    • December 9, 2012 14:09

      The furry friend is on the horizon…far away, but there.

  7. December 9, 2012 13:34

    Great use of the Super Bueno!

    Yeah, grieving, breakdown, breakthrough. Yup. Indeed.


  8. December 10, 2012 19:33

    I spent lots of days grieving after I lost my furry best friend. When a friend got sick of my weepiness and insisted I search for a new pal, I was reluctant. But, I will admit that the hole in my heart finally felt better when I held my new fur baby in my arms. Though he is a completely different breed, he has many of the same personality quirks as Mac did. I figure that is a gift from Mac to make me smile. Perhaps shortly a new furry friend would make your world feel right again. Nothing is better than coming home to such happiness.

  9. December 11, 2012 08:25

    You are Super Bueno. Every time I say “I’m fine”, the truth gets stuffed into my shoulders. Eventually it builds to the point where I feel like Quasi Modo. I get it. Sometimes saying “I’m fine” is the easiest answer. And one day you’ll say it and it will be sincere and right and said because it’s more than the easiest answer.

    • December 21, 2012 14:24

      It’s getting better. Seriously. I wish I could give you a hug, though.

  10. December 12, 2012 20:36

    Grieving, holiday funk, change. It all looks good when you design a header like that. Hope you feel better quick!

    • December 21, 2012 14:21

      And that’s a photo of my REAL brain. Who knew?

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