The end of the day...

It is really not officially the end of the day. It is already the middle of the night, but I'll act like it is the end of the day for me, because I haven't gone to bed yet, except for a short nap earlier today. I'm not ready to go to sleep yet, because just now, at this moment, I feel that I'm relaxed enough to enjoy the peace and quiet around me and that I can organize my thoughts and not be distracted by the busy world around me. It seems that everybody within hearing distance is asleep and so are the animals. Gandhi is asleep in my armchair and Tyke's asleep on the carpet beside my chair. They are a peaceful couple. 

For the sake of vanity, I wore the wrong earrings today and now I have a swollen and bleeding ear. It is my own fault, because I knew I was taking a chance. I didn't know what material those earrings where made of and apparently they weren't nickel free. I don't even remember how I got those earrings and I found them in my jewelry drawer. Of course, I wanted to look pretty and put them in. Now it's going to take my poor ear some time to recover, but it did put me in mind to go to the store and buy some earrings that have anti-allergenic hangers. With my new haircut I want some fun earrings and I know just the style I want to get. I know which store to go look in too. There's a good clothing store not too far away from here and they may just have what I'm looking for. It's just a five minute ride on my bike from here. 

Creative class went fine, except that I had to redo my sculpture, because the proportions were wrong. This was pointed out to me by the therapist who was watching me from a little distance. He very diplomatically told me, but I can handle that. I was more than willing to redo it rather than end up with a baked sculpture that was out of proportion and that I would be embarrassed about. I cut off the lower half and redid it and it did look better afterwards. It is tough making a sculpture on your own without an example and for the next one I´m using Henri Moore again. 

I think the other people think I´m a lady and that I´m not approachable. One even addressed me as Ma´am. They mistake my shyness for aloofness and think because I´m dressed well, I´m not one of them. And, of course, I don´t speak dialect. I did strike up a conversation with the gentleman across from me, but it petered out. He seemed very civilized, but I can´t seem to make contact. I´m going to try my best again on Wednesday. I can´t be having doubts about myself now. I have to act like I´m okay. 

I have to act like everything is okay in my life and only concentrate on the positive things, no matter how small and insignificant they are. Earrings, clothes, boots, the animals, drinking coffee. Especially the things I have some control over, like how I look. The minute I start losing control over that, I know I will be in trouble. I have to make the small things be alright and make them count. They have to be important to make me feel secure and in charge. That´s why I write about them so much. I don´t want to write about the things that are not alright. I think it´s better not to dwell on them. That´s the conclusion I have come to after some thought. So I will only write about these small insignificant things for a while. 

The colors of my outfit yesterday were red and gray, just like my interior. I felt very colorful and bright. I was dressed warm enough for the cold day and on the way home from creative class it rained just a little bit. I barely got wet and when I got home, I didn´t even have to dry off my hair with a towel. Tyke didn´t hear me come in, so I found out where he slept while I was gone. He was lying down in the rattan chair in my bedroom on top of my green scarf. I always suspected that he slept in the bedroom, but it´s kind of endearing that he slept on something that belonged to me. It´s got the smell of my perfume in it and that probably made him feel secure. 

I´ve got to go to bed. A person does have to get some sleep some time. It´s a small inconvenience. 

Have a good morning.

Ciao,
Nora