what if i started reading again, wouldn’t that be novel (ar har har)?

i realized today how disconnected i’ve been from structure, and when structure goes, most of my best habits go with it. i’ve read 4 books this year; 5 or 6 if you count longfic. i haven’t meditated since january, or journaled, or enjoyed a restful morning with the NYT crossword. i guess the best parts of me are really a very old, free-spirited yet intellectual woman, which i think is nice, actually. i just need a reminder that i enjoy her company when she’s around.

right now, i’m going through a period of acceptance in a way i haven’t in many years. i’m somehow learning to appreciate the way i bounce from interest to interest. at the same time, i find myself getting better at internalizing the idea of putting larger projects down for a time and trusting that i will get back to them. that i am, in fact, capable of slow growth. ADHD has always made my attention feel like an all-or-nothing game; if i put something down, the likelihood i’d pick it up again dwindled to almost zero in a matter of days. but somehow, over the last few months, i’m finding that long-neglected delayed gratification muscle working more often than it has in… years. i can’t remember the last time i felt this way. which isn’t to say i’m sticking to every last one of the many, many projects i start. it’s just that i feel a little more confident telling myself that i will come back to them later.

anyway. the old lady is getting a time-table and i’m going to read more often. that’s that.