I am here to do three things.

Firstly: to report that I am fully moving out of the studio tomorrow. I got a first clear-out done yesterday with the help of family, and my bedroom currently looks like a confused cluster of islands. Because I sleep on a mattress on the floor, when I lie down it feels a little like I’m floating amongst my stuff. Tomorrow it will only get more crowded, and I will need to, when February comes round, start organising a work space at home. I am pretty excited for it, I think.

Secondly: to say that I am bad at receiving and accepting compliments. And it’s not really a self-esteem thing – because I do think I am good and smart and skilled and kind. (It’s hard to not claim as much after many years of conscientious and dedicated effort to become as much.) It’s more of a social anxiety thing – outwardly claiming compliments feels easily read as arrogance. I don’t think I am superior or perfect; I simply know, with considerable clarity, my strengths and my weaknesses. How does one navigate that socially? I think what I need is the courage to be disliked.

Thirdly: that at this point I’m so touch-starved it’s starting to feel like when I was in Canley in periods of lonesome misery. Yet I don’t want to touch/ be touched by just anybody. This beggar is a chooser. I think I will get a weighted blanket soon, and figure out how to lead my affectionate self out into the world.