i may be back
I’ve been meaning to write. Really, I have. Often, I’ve even started writing in my head–only to change my mind when in front of the keyboard. Why have I been quiet when there is SO MUCH to share? Well, I suppose I’m digesting all of it still. Settling in. Getting my sea legs. Being gentle with myself.
I will share all my odd observations and theories. I will share my foodie discoveries and the photos. I will bitch about traffic and how ridiculously hot it’s been in the south bay. And how, despite pneumonia and asthma, I can actually BREATHE here. I will share every misadventure including the one that just happened. I might talk about work, too, and how all the crazy landed in my lap. I’ll maybe talk about the illnesses…though that is still ongoing. Hi, Prednisone, you’re nice.
When things are less crazy, I’ll also start a new blog. One that will cover my new adventures with meal prep services; how I’ve been Konmari-ing the crap out of my living situation; DIY decorating hacks; adventures in cooking regularly again; and of course, travel–once I’m not sans car.
Oh, and there will likely be a whole tear-filled confessional about how unsure I was and how now I’m less unsure. How now, I might just stay. And how the feeling driving that initial feeling was a big whopper of a head blow from my childhood and how–oh, man–moving was totally worth it just for that.
(Hint: it has a whole lot to do with guilt and self-worth and the shit we settle for. And facing the idea that you’ve been punishing yourself for a very long time for things you never deserved…and well, it’s time to stop). All to be unpacked in therapy–eventually–after I find a doctor that isn’t a $50 lyft ride away. Or buy a goddamn car. Because seriously, sharing one is not really happening, given the commute times here.
I will likely start with the funny things and the observations. Because those are easy. And plentiful. Because every 1/2 hour walk somewhere gives me more fuel. Then I’ll probably tell you all about the move–and how not to live a total nightmare like we did while moving. Because HOLY CRAP that sucked. And kinda still does. But one day, the living room won’t be full of boxes. One day, this will actually feel like home.
But–yep–I’m just not ready to write any of it now. Mostly because I’m letting it steep. What else does a girl do when she can’t find her TV?
Oh, yea–read. But, um…can’t find books.
Which is why my Instagram is basically my cats being adorable 24/7. That’s probably the best place to get in on this life of mine right now–other than Twitter, of course, which is basically Alma after dark. 😉
Thanks for reading this far. I promise I will write again soon. Or at least post a photo of my box progress.