7:31AM wake-up. Woohoo. Two hours of sleep-in time. Normal wake-up is 5:20. Resisted looking at my phone for four minutes. Which is four minutes longer than normal. Water for coffee is boiling.
Whew. Feel very rested. And very tired. Completely empty. Yet filling up. Still haven’t checked my phone yet. Setting a new record. Five minutes. I’m typing in Notes. On the computer. The Facebook tab is still open from last night. There is a 13 inside parentheses.
Last night I had my oracle cards read. It was past the baby’s bedtime. The oracle showed up on FaceTime. At 8:30PM. I messaged in advance. Didn’t want my cards read. Just wanted to know how she does what she does. How is it possible. I don’t get it.
Yesterday afternoon, with my dreads in a high bun, I cut one off. With an orange scissors. With my fingers,I felt the empty patch. Lonely strands of what-the-hell-just-happened hair. I couldn’t do more. I let my hair down. All that strength. Regina Spektor has this song called Samson. About hair. And power.
What did the oracle say? Do I buy it? Don’t know. I’m thinking. I can say the experience was legitimate enough not to dismiss outright. Which, in and of itself, is huge.
Whole30 gets one more day from me. Stops tomorrow. I’m going to have a beer on my birthday. Mouse warns me about this. Craving fermented grain. The object of my previous addiction. My dad says you never lose your vice. AA agrees. Like the oracle, I’m thinking on this claim too.
Mouse is still sleeping. With Ellie. Late night last night. Mouse’s bus broke down. On the way back from a soccer game. Don’t even know what time she got back.
It’s 7:46. This makes it the longest time in recent memory of Internet-less wake-up. The number in parenthesis has moved to 14. Aldi opens at nine. We need eggs, kale, coffee, bananas. Really we just need eggs. For breakfast. The gas station has them, down the street. Not cage-free though. Mouse says this matters. A friend told me cage-free status comes, according to the fine print, merely by having “access” to the outside world. Whether or not this access is ever made available is a question of chicken-owner discretion. Mouse said this is correct.
7:50. The dog is nosing my rest. Wanting walk. I crinkle the plastic bag in the closet. Flash a pig ear. He’s easily bought.
If you put a gun to my head, and asked about the oracle? My answer is yes. Four cards were pulled out of a deck. Then interpreted. This happened four times, four decks. Yes, it helped me. How? I’ll save for later. She spoke with enough particularity about my past, present, future. I won’t say my jaw dropped. It did not. Nor did I ever walk away, shaking my head from side to side. Never had the feeling of nope, this is whack. What I did feel was deeply challenged. More later.
7:56. I’m making my own list of ten commandments. Not finished yet. One: don’t eat processed foot. Two: don’t lie. Omissions count. Three: don’t hurry. Four: don’t look at your phone first thing in the morning.
7:58. The dog is on the bed. Not the bed with Mouse and mump mump. The guest bed. I read Japanese tatami mats are better for your back. The dog is on the guest bed, chewing on his pig ear. There’s a pile of clothes next to him. Being sold on Facebook marketplace. Atop the clothes is a friend’s electric razor. I could’t shave my head, so I bzz bzz’ed my chin. Then a book on the mind. About how there is no I. No self.
8:00AM. The number’s still at (14).
8:01 now. The coffee burnt my tongue. Always does. I don’t wait long enough. Rush, rush. One more thing. The oracle said she doesn’t give new information. Doesn’t reveal anything not already known. Just magnifies the inner voice. Confirms intuition. I felt that. Which doesn’t make the leap of faith any easier. Trusting yourself, I mean. It’s like some french dude once said: the heart has reasons of which reason knows not.
8:04. Cacao nib cookie composed of coconut flour. Mmmm.