Yes I’m sorry, I keep saying the word bitch these days, or maybe most times (which almost got me in trouble when I was a junior in highschool.) Ehem.

Anyway, I’m just here to say that I’m not a bitch anymore. For now. I’ve figured out my seasons.

Between November – March? Total bitch. Unhinged, feral, hibernating.

By April, she is a domestic goddess. Cottage core fairy, nesting and planning Sunday lunches, cleaning house, buying flowers and airing out the muck of darkness from winter.

In May, she blooms. Puttering about her kitchen, making tea, feeding her fellow wounded children dishes from her carefully planned menu.

By summer, between June to September, she morphs into a social butterfly, cavorting with friends, here and there for dinners and hikes etc.

By October she starts to mellow–candles, pumpkin spice, and witchy vibes. Keep it creepy.

Then we go back to female rage November, which slowly moves into sad, exhausted, anti-social January.

February to March, a trial period. Will she or won’t she? She’ll come out once in awhile. Maybe attend an intimate concert, an orchestra, or a quiet dinner, one-to-ones. Three’s okay, four’s a crowd.

And we are going to honour her, okay? We’re finally listening to our bodies this year. We’re following our intuition and curiosities.

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Today we are right on schedule. I went to the grocery store in the morning, came home started cleaning the bathroom and scrubbed the kitchen walls. We went through my daily checklist. Laundry’s been done the day before, room’s vacuumed and cleaned, trash taken out. Worked on my comics class exercises.

Asking for a four-day work week was one of the best things I did back in January (when I could just feel I was losing my mind. Was it the lack of sun? Vitamin D? Yearning? Ehe who knows.) But this modified schedule ends in May, and who knows I may revert into an ill-tempered imp. For now, glad to have a longer stretch of time where I can do my chores, take care of myself, and have time to work on my art!