The Morning After
What a difference a day makes. Yesterday morning I woke to a warm, snoring dreadlocked Rasta man wrapped around me, and my furry god curled up at our feet. I felt warm and sexy and sensuous.
This morning I woke to a cold bed. Not even a dog to warm me.
I've had my sexy Rasta man here with me for a week again, this time after a six week separation. I dropped him off at Ronald Reagan National Airport . After a quick kiss for me and head pat for the dog, he was gone again. The dog, (formerly known as"furry god" ) has decided he is gone because of me and ignores me except to ask to go outside. He wouldn't even sleep on the bed like he usually does.
But I won't let it get me down! Nope. This is the perfect morning for some self pampering with no self-shaming. I laid in bed watching 1 & 2 star Netflix movies (one of my stranger proclivities) until 11am this morning (got up to take the dog out at six as usual though). After that I felt ambitious, so I ran a hot bubble bath, lit a fat orange candle (pumpkin spice scented, of course), and soaked for an hour. Now I write this with a softly snoring dog who has conceded to sleep in the same room as me curled near the door.
A pretty white cloud of steam rises from a chipped blue and white tea cup holding hot mulled wine/chai tea with a splash of dark spiced rum. The lights in my little painting studio are low, and my creative flow is back. I got stopped up there for a while. Couldn't paint, couldn't write. Ideas for posts and paintings came and went but I just couldn't get them out. I think the mojo is back, though.
I've got a commission for a mural that I'm crazy excited to start, and Outlander themed glasses I'm still working on, not to mention a couple Autumn/Halloween Swaps online. I'm letting my mind run around in jagged circles and loops as it pleases instead of forcing it to focus like it has to all the time. Some times a little of the crazy just wants loose for a while. I hope this lovely Autumn day finds you all happy and content. I am going to enjoy the cool breeze that's putting on a show of swirling leaves outside my window, smell of Szechuan porch chops simmering in the slow cooker, sip my rum-laced wine, and paint until my fingers fall off.