5 signs that things are turning around

1. So the loss of my notebooks means that I got to start a new one. I purchased a lovely pink Leuchtturm1917 notebook. Instead of "catching up" the imaginary future reader on all the recent tribulations, I wrote about the desired future. And that has made all the difference.

2. The bucket on Gull Road has been disappeared. There has been a food service style white plastic bucket in the gutter at Gull Road and Harrison since December or January. I observed it every day on my way home from work every day. It had been moved to the park for a while, but yesterday it had either blown or been moved back to the gutter. Today, gone.

3. Yes, I could have picked up the bucket myself. It's just one of those things you don't fully realize until it's over. The bucket was a symbol of the status quo? I was never good at symbolism.

4. Spring is coming.

5. The 5th sign is that I am enjoying the optimistic viewpoint, maybe more than I should. But who wants Gloomy Gus at the party? We kicked that guy out. We will go forward, with flower wreaths. Or whatever we can find.

5 things on my mind

1. Do we even need laptops anymore? So many devices in the world ... It seems like one of them should suffice. But it's never quite enough.

2. And it's ALL about enough. Enough food. Enough love. Enough stuff.

3. Enough is a really weird word. Enuff. Trough. And yet, stuff, huff.

4. How to stop? Weaning. I'm trying that approach for the sugar problem, anyway. Replace sugar with protein. It's just not fair, realistic or reasonable to take away a major pleasure source and then flog yourself for missing it, which is my usual approach. Protein will not adequately replace my nice wallet or love and friendship, so we'll just have to keep searching for that one. (By the way, credit for this idea is again due to Martha Beck. I have no original ideas.)

5. But without stuff, you can start over. Literally, buy a new notebook. Moving on.

Exposed

Somewhere there's a burglar (I like to picture the McDonald's Hamburglar, because it makes me laugh, thinking of the horrible Sexy Hamburglar costume we drew for a Halloween giggle) with all my notebooks. I say notebooks as if one of them were not actually a diary. There was also the poetry I wrote in November, un edited and therefore suspected to be awful. They were stashed in my purse.

In my briefcase were the checklists from all my monthly projects as well. I had just set up the March projects. They were to take the time to set a daily intention (almost meditation), write the intention down, dance every day, and wish a happy Facebook birthday every day.

And speaking of dance, my laptop contained my homework for my online dance class with John Doyle. It was just a goofy practice dance to "Let's Go Crazy" by Prince, taken with the webcam.

Any of these items, in the wrong hands, is the end of______? I can't worry about respectability, because here I am putting it all out here anyway. I dance even goofier in real life on a monthly basis. Why does it make me so sad? Is it because it is not released under my control?

It doesn't matter. It has been done. And I am going to keep doing it. If I stop now, the Hamburglar will have won.

Here we go again.

Someone walked in my (unlocked, apparently) back door last night and walked out with my laptop and purse. I was home, upstairs, probably asleep with the cat. Richard was in the basement smoking cigars and heard the footsteps but thought it was the cat or old house noises.

I am completely blank about what the universe wants from me. Less internet thoughts? Should I guard my things closer or give them away? I have always believed the answer was to give it away. But I wanted to do it my way, safely.

I am mostly chilled by the loss of my little notebooks. My lists... My unfettered feelings. A month of unedited poetry. All gone.

So I am out there somewhere, and also here. Take what you need but not more! I will try to do the same.