I Just Wanted To Finish My Recipe!!

I don't understand, but I feel like my own home makes me... depressed. I was so motivated to do things, but then I get back home and walk in the door and it's almost instant defeat. Dragging my feet to even do the simplest of things, I just want to lay in bed and sleep the day away.

It's not feeling overwhelmed by chores. I love doing housework, tbh. It keeps me busy as I'm a housewife and otherwise unemployed. I just feel... empty. Is it my schedule being overnight?

How can I help this? Home should be a place of comfort, love, and joy... but it makes me feel alone (when husband is at work), empty, and sad. Even my cats can only offer me little comfort and company.

Blessed Belly Touch for a good week.

Perhaps I am starting too many things at once.

I wish to find my place in my spirituality, but at the same time I wonder if my heritage would offer me anything. I am half Mexican/half Caucasian, but I was raised Caucasian and had little to no contact with my Hispanic family after the age of 3. Because of this... I know nothing about my Mexican bloodline.

I do not know anything about the culture, the beliefs, the celebrations, very little about the food, and I can barely speak Spanish. I want to get in touch with these roots, also. Part of me feels that I am too late, however, and pushes back against it.

How do I even start? Where do I begin? Do I postpone my spiritual journey and focus on my heritage instead? I am overwhelming myself, as I often do, and these past two weeks have been rather awful... it's all compounding and I don't know what to do to get back on my feet.

Just a girl and her cat journaling.

It took me too long, but I finally finished The Last Unicorn. I had bought a deluxe edition of the novel which came with an interview and a note from Mister Beagle.

What I didn't expect was the second story that came as an epilogue.

Two Hearts was beautiful, exciting, and the ending of this shorter tale is what finally made me cry.

I felt like a child again reading this book, though I stepped away and kept myself from reading it. I felt like once I read it, the magic of nostalgia would leave. It wouldn't be special to me, anymore. But it was. It truly was.

Yurah Tsukino by amaipetisu

My beloved cares not that it storms outside, only that the pile of blankets is comfy.

To say I am disappointed is an understatement.

Finally sat and watched a movie again. The First Omen. Was pretty good, but those graphic birth scenes... wow. As someone who has an aversion to blood, they really got me throwing up over here.

I've seen the original Omen, but maybe I should rewatch it?

i cry a lot, but i am so productive