Claws and Stinger

So my Cancerian self is having an existential temper tantrum.

Boxes. All various renditions of "square;" all various sizes. The smartest move I did was slowly start collecting copy paper boxes from work, as well as essentially dumpster dive for various departments' cast offs. Working in a hospital, we get a shitload of boxes, most of which are incredibly sturdy. Good for moving. But I'm surrounded. All of my belongings are packed away, making my home into a storage unit.

Because I'm packing up my nest, all my "home" energy is all discombobulated, and it's putting me in an incredibly unsettling funk. I also have no home to move to, which is not a happy thing for a Cancer. I also as of yet have a job, which is the big clincher--that has to be in place first for all the rest to fall in place. Or at least that's how I see it. So, the transition from one state to another, in more ways than one, is underway and unstoppable. Which is all well and good, but would be so much less stressful if the employment issues would just resolve itself. It's so close to being there, but "close" doesn't cut it.

So, my natal claws are up; my ascendant's tail poised and ready to strike. Which they did. Cancer claws and Scorpio stinger... not pretty.

Again, tonight, I light a mental candle (I'd light a real one if they weren't all packed) and send a request to universe, manifesting a good job and a home to land it.