Caterwauling

Tree at Il Bellagio, CityPlace

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Had such a good weekend. Still have some work to do but wow did I enjoy the last four days.

A friend was in town and it was so good to hang with someone in my field … someone who knew me way back when. We joined our last place of employment at the same time, and whoda thunk it that we’d still be friends so many years later when we’ve both taken very separate paths away from it.

It was good to reminisce and look ahead and just plain be in the moment, too. I got to meet a lot of cool people as well, and that’s all it really takes for me to be on top of the world.

I’ve been restless because I haven’t traveled in months. I’ve been frustrated because life keeps giving me lemons that are too spoiled with which to make lemonade. I’ve been aimless and rudderless, forever wondering about the paths not taken.

And to hang with someone who also goes wherever the wind blows her, knowing with full confidence that the universe will take good care of her, I was reminded of when I was that way and that, really, that’s the way I still am and will always be.

I realized in a big way that I’d be miserable if I were still in D.C., spending another year in the hamster wheel. I would be cursing the cold, the motorists, the shared apartment with Mom. I guess I miss the routine of it all more than anything. And I hate routines!

I guess my struggles with identity don’t serve to make life any easier. But when I break it down into what I like, I can more-easily identify what I want.

What I Like:

Florida, if you can believe it.
The beach.
The fake snow that my favorite haunt (pictured) is generating next weekend.
The freedom to write my own ticket, if I’d only just pick up the pen and start scribbling.

What I Want:

To say goodbye to editorial.
To market, to market.
To “get out” in my field more and talk to the people I admire and, like, learn stuff from them directly.
To reconnect with people in my field who give me that “oomph” — those who remind me that my niche market is super-cool and not only am I lucky to be part of it, but I’m pretty much a rising rock star in my own right.

I think — nay, I know — I’ve been worried that I’m losing my mojo. I went from rising star to plateaued pudge muffin. I felt like I got downgraded from planet to dwarf planet. I’ve been feeling like fucking Pluto.

And it’s pretty hard to figure out who you want to be when you have no blessed idea of who you’ve become … and all you can cling to is who you were because everybody said that person was pretty special and it’s easy to miss the time and place where that specialness reigned supreme.

I don’t have any brilliant “next steps” in mind right now, but it’s been exhausting and yet strangely exhilarating to retrace my steps with my friend and get me back to where the roads diverged and my mentality careened into a ditch.

It was good to talk to people who had heard of me and who needed to hear about me. It really made me see that my place in this world is as memorable and remarkable as I make it.

I’m so very ready to try new things and bring along the best of the old. I’ve been feeling very done with this world (not in a suicidal sense, just in the sense that I’ve done enough and I’m tired and could stand to get my strength back). But this world is far from done with me, and I can either park my feet in the wet sand and not budge, or I can parasail to my next level.

Look out, world — I don’t know where I’m going next, but unless you’re helping me along, you’d better step out of the way and watch me fly. … 😉

Midnight of a New Moon

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

If I didn’t have this view, I’d have already jumped off of this damn building.

I’d give anything to have never rented two condos in Amityville. ANYTHING.

I just can’t afford this anymore. I thought I could do it. But with the ongoing anxiety attacks (O HAI those weren’t blueberries in my cereal this morning — THEY WERE ANTS), I’m ready to give it all up and just plummet seven stories. Or something.

I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. (I think — maybe it’s this coming Wednesday instead.) I have to remember to behave and not say things like, “I’m about to jump off a building” or “Yeah I take care of my mom; she’s lucky I haven’t shot her yet.” Because I DO say things like that and I know NOT to let medical personnel in on those discussions!

I picked my doctor based solely upon the fact that there is Steeler garb in the office. And so what if I’m 35 and my primary-care physician is a pediatrician? Dude, STEELER FAN!

I actually have two appointments — I’d originally called someone else and the staff was so appallingly rude and careless with me that, after mulling over it all day, I decided that I wanted to go elsewhere.

I mean, the people you talk to are the support staff, and if you don’t like them, it doesn’t matter what you think of the doctor. (I don’t think I ever met my “real” PCP in D.C.)

But at the second practice I called, they were conversational and wanted to make sure I knew where I was going and really just acted like they were glad to take me on.

Anyway, I’m looking to get medicated — for hyperthyroid, of course. Although Xanax wouldn’t hurt. 🙂

Actually, I don’t want anything mind-altering. I think back to Sunday at church when my (very attractive. Yes, someone’s hot for preacher) pastor said that the same people keep coming to him to ask him to pray about the same things.

And he does but he wants them to remember that they already have their answer — praying about it doesn’t change that. “You know what you have to do. So do it,” he said generally, to all of us.

I know what I have to do. Which is not to burn down the building, tempting though that may be. I need to suck it up for a year. I can do anything for a year. And I need to run screaming the second my leases are up.

But just as importantly, I’ve got to find some joy in the meantime. I’ll have disposable cash again. Someday. But the apartment’s downright hopeless at this point — I should just buy an air mattress and camp out on the balcony.

And maybe I’ll try not to roll over and plummet to sea level. Maybe. Can’t promise anything at this rate! 😉

Triangle

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Church hurt today, which means it was good. It was all about walking the walk as a Christ-follower, how we can talk a good game but fail miserably in the execution.

There was a good analogy given today, that people play the lottery on the 1 in a billion chance of winning, but the odds of dying are 1 in 1, and we’d better be ready to have our lives judged. Ergo, where is our time and where are our efforts better spent?

And it got me to thinking about the terrible bargains we make not just as women or whatever the group, but also as Christians … when we judge others … when we hide our faith … when we associate with people who don’t emulate the same characteristics that we ourselves espouse … when we worry about money and security and all the things we don’t have.

I simply present this without comment today, as I have a lot to think about when it comes to how angry or frustrated or despondent I become over what boils down to absolutely stupid crap.

Church hurts when I see myself being very far from God and Christ and seeing a long uphill battle to get there. It doesn’t mean I won’t — it just means I have a lot of work to do to get there. And that means a lot of hard choices to identify — and make to get to that ever-elusive sense of peace that I so desperately crave and that I so very righteously deserve … or, will deserve, when I finally “get it right.”

Escape

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

We have a saying in my world, that we need to take time to get “back to neutral.” That time is usually no longer than a few minutes or hours, but you take it when you can get it, and you maximize it.

I spent an hour at the beach today, and it was lovely. I spent an hour by the pool yesterday, and it was almost as good. At the pool, there was a very large bearded dragon lounging next to me. Kind of freaky, but he was harmless. I guess he crawled out of the Intracoastal and wanted to get a tan. He was the only one there and he didn’t talk, so he was welcome in my space.

I’ve been crabby of the highest drown-me-in-drawn-butter caliber the past few days. Mostly about money and all the bills I have to pay, particularly those that aren’t mine. I’m mad that because I didn’t make time to see my mother all week, she didn’t eat. There is always something in my fridge, even if it’s just cereal and yogurt, so this self-punishment by starvation shit bores me to tears.

She said something to me after church today, when I wanted to go have someone pray for me and she refused to come along (and I decided to say fuck it and leave because the only person who needs a prayer more than I do is her), she said she wasn’t going to come to church with me anymore. OMG, drama. But she did say something interesting, which is that she’s no good for me. Which is pretty true right now; I ain’t arguing. It’s hard to keep it together for two of us.

And this is why I need church. To remind me to stop thinking about all the money I’m not saving, to forget about all the free time I don’t have, and think bigger. To remember that this life is all I have and I can either worry it away or find the good things and hold on tightly. That there are people SO much worse-off than me and I need to be doing something to help them. That my impact on this world has yet to be begun and I’m not leaving this place without rocking the globe off its axis in one way or another.

It’s funny how just an hour and a half of amazing worship can tilt me back into the right direction. Imagine if I made time for Sunday night worship or other school-night events like feeding the homeless and other projects my church does.

I hold myself back from committing to anything because I don’t want to be a no-show. But I really feel like my calling is to volunteer in my community through my church. I’ve also held back because it’s kind of clique-ish. At my old church, you could not get through the door without all the pastors zeroing on the fresh blood. I’ve been going to the new church for months, and not a soul has noticed my presence. But that just means I have to make myself stand out and, unlike at my old church, here I am ready to do so.

And in that, I feel I won’t get too far from neutral, or at least I’ll have more than just a prayer of snapping back to it much-more often. And maybe I won’t leave that state once I feel like I’m doing the right thing, whatever that might be.

Idyllic

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Boy have I been in a mental state for the past few days.

Money is the root of all evil, I’m just saying it now.

Money is the reason why my mother spent the last two years living with me. (Clarification: because of the lack thereof.) Money is the reason why she has her own place now because I have more than I did.

Money is the reason I harbor a world of resentment because instead of banking my money or using it for things that would make my life more enjoyable, I’ve now got two full sets of bills to pay.

Yet, my space would not be possible without money.

It’s such a Catch-22.

Five-ish years ago when I had no job, money was my curse because I was able and willing to work but couldn’t get hired to save my life and, thus, couldn’t earn any money to stay afloat. In this fucked-up economy, money is still elusive because what you have today can go up in flames in an instant.

I had a rough night last night. I realized that Mom was right and that my financial problems (the latest round) all started when I decided I HAD to get my own apartment again. That I HAD to get some shred of sanity in order to keep having a reason to continue my journey through this world.

Ergo, the conclusion is: Goddess is not meant to be happy in this world, and will be punished severely for even trying.

I don’t believe that to be true. But the little demons in my head that refuse to be quieted when I’m stressed out really made their case on that front.

But I’m no Mother Theresa. Sure I make sacrifices all the time. But if I don’t squeak in something for me in there once in a while, there will be nothing left of me.

Last night I went to the beach for an hour or two. I paid for my access and the check luckily cleared five days before my bank hijinks ensued (yay!).

God, it was good. Really.

I took my iPod and got soaked by renegade waves.

I sat on a lounge chair and watched planes prepare to land in Fort Lauderdale.

I texted with one of the best friends a girl could have. And I tried very hard not to lament the fact that I have no friends within a 1,000-mile radius and that all my favorite people are no less than a two-hour plane ride away.

I did come back when Mommy tried calling me because she was in my apartment to feed the cat and my shit was there and I wasn’t.

Sigh.

And even though I had sand between my toes, I lied about my whereabouts when I invited her back for us to eat the last two Lean Cuisines I have in the freezer because I haven’t been able to get us food.

I’m very much in a position of mental weakness right now, and I believe wholeheartedly that this is why bad thing after bad thing keeps happening to me.

I just want something good to happen, you know? ANYTHING. Anything that will give me a sign that it will get better.

Because otherwise, you end up with nights like I had last night where I was up NOT even worrying about my own tidal wave of suck, but how to ALSO find the strength to shoulder my mother’s as well.

I totally understand the midlife crisis now. I mean, really. I get it.

When you’re earning enough that you SHOULD be living all right, and when you’ve got the whole world strapped to your back and you simply cannot get out from under it … when the one thing you own (i.e., my car) — the thing that always took you far and fast away from everyone and everything that sucked — is nothing but a pile of junk …when nothing is really yours and you’re just tired of sharing your toys because you have to … when you have to put on a happy face (or at least one that doesn’t convey how fucked-up things really are) and keep pushing forward … I can TOTALLY see why someone goes out and buys a “penis car” or divorces their lifemate and goes in search of someone half their age. ANYTHING to recapture what it was like to have hope again.

I realize I probably sound like a nutjob on this blog. But it’s my only friend right now. Probably has been my only friend for a long time. At least, the only friend I confide in.

I often think I’m getting too old to blog. Especially with this existential horseshit that’s better left unacknowledged. Maybe the blog is my solution to MY midlife crisis.

I dunno. I guess I’m looking around right now and seeing no chance of retiring, no chance of Mom NOT being dependent on me, and no real reason to think that things will ever change.

But I also know that, the second my damn check card arrives, my whole outlook will change and I will be dancing on the ceiling with absolute and utter joy.

As I said, money is the root of all evil. But it does buy peace, as fleeting as it may be. And I’m not one to pass up peace anywhere I can get it.

Think about how much money I would save by not paying for Mommy to live elsewhere. And while I may not be able to sustain it for more than a year, I know to enjoy it while I have it. Because what’s left of my mental health? Is worth any price tag you can put on it. …

Perfect

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I’m hellbent on having a good weekend. I went to a food-and-wine festival Friday night, spent the day at the beach yesterday (my coloring could be best described as “crustacean,” fresh outta the pot), and went out last night.

Back to work after church today, but it’s all good. It’s more downtime than I’ve had in months.

I’m amazed at the things that shake loose from my head when I’m not uptight and worried about whatever I just fucked up or probably will fuck up. I’m amazed at all the fun there is to be had that I am continually missing out on.

I saw a great quote on Friday: “If you’re happy where you are, stay in the moment. If not, MOVE ON.”

Sage advice, indeed.

I saw another great quote on the PostSecret site this morning, which was that “I am allowed to be happy.”

Happy is a word I don’t use much, unless I am debating its existence. Or I use it ironically.

Maybe someday I’ll wake up and realize that the strange emotion overcoming me is that ever-elusive happiness. And that will be a moment I will want to stay in and will cling to it for dear life.

Out for Business

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I always consider it a victory when I can have half a day Saturday and a half-day Sunday for personal pursuits. So, weekend win, yo.

Church was absolutely fantastic today. It was all music worship. We have four campuses for this church, and today we were wired in to all four campuses, with each leading us in song. Freaking amazing, I tell you. I know pride is a sin and all, but it can’t be when I say I’m so proud of the place where I belong. I’m especially proud of my preferred campus — my guys rocked the stage. 🙂

I keep forgetting that it’s only life, you know? I was thinking about my previous manifesto about why I love D.C. and I’m thinking about what keeps me from visiting it. Mostly in the way of responsibilities, and a falling-apart car and a pile of bills and just all these invisible shackles that I allow to weigh me down.

Silly girl.

When your goal is just getting through, no good things are going to come to you, you know?

The other day, someone was asking me about my dream car. My response was a simple, “One that isn’t dented.” Everyone else listed their dream vehicles and they came back to me. “One that runs properly,” I added.

Everyone was shocked at my absolute disinterest in cars. It’s not that — I just figure that with so many expenses (that I willingly and maybe even eagerly took on), why should I think about having anything “fun”?

And then today, outside my church, I saw my new car, the Hyundai Genesis coupe. What a sweet little ride.

Coveting is a sin, too, yes? Damn it! 🙂

Oh well. I’m putting it “out there” that I want it. Of course, with my credit score, I’d be lucky to get a 10-speed for the same price. But I’ve got to stop letting stupid shit like credit scores (and reality, for that matter) keep holding me back from at least visualizing what I want.

The thing is, I don’t drive anymore unless it’s to work. It’s a nice drive and I always dress like a hooker so I can get sun on my shoulders during the commute.

But with free time so finite, and the engine so rickety, I can’t believe I haven’t roamed the state in search of adventure.

I mean, even though driving in D.C. stressed me the hell out for the first two years, I still did it. I white-knuckled my way around the Beltway and at various points north, south, east and west of it … but I did it. Here, I stay in my own little corner of my own little room and it’s KILLING ME.

I’ve decided that I am OK where I live now (surrounded by water. I mean, come on, I’m not a moron!), but I have got to get my city-girl ass someplace resembling a city down here. There are three signs of life — West Palm, Lauderdale and Miami — and I’m smack between two of them.

But with a functioning car that doesn’t embarrass me (or downright scare me) to drive, I can get to all of them until I can move to one of them.

Getting older is such a bitch, you know? I continue to long for adventure, but having some security/stability and a place to truly call home is also on my “coveting” list.

That’s why it’s so weird to be thinking about a “next” car that’s not a minivan or something else that would tote a family along for the ride. Of course, the way my luck usually has it, it would be the day I walk into the dealership and drive out with another sports car that I’d find out that I need something a little more conservative. 😉

That’s OK. I’ll take my chances! I’ve got to remember that God’s plan for me is still in motion, whatever that plan is. And even if it’s to get an oceanfront condo in Miami and enjoy the shit out of my next little sports car, I ain’t complainin’.

9/19/09 Intracoastal Sunset

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Every once in a while, it will come up in conversation, “Who would you want to have dinner with (alive/dead/historical/popular figure)?”

For me, the answer became clear. I want to have dinner with myself at age 22, when I thought I knew everything and when I was fearless and ready to conquer the world.

I wouldn’t want to have dinner with me at 35. Sure, I have more stories to tell now. I can tell you what I’ve seen and done as opposed to what I want to do. But I definitely don’t have as many forward-looking statements as I once did.

And that’s why I want to meet the person I was — to see if she can’t inspire me a bit.

I remember thinking that once I had a job, a car, a life partner, whatever — that my problems would be over. That once I surmounted those huge problems, it’d be smooth sailing from there.

As we all know, they’re all just means to an end and cause their own set of challenges. And that there’s so much more to conquer than those “basic needs.”

I’ve been consumed with living life for other people that I tend to forget that I’m on this planet to please the one who put me here. Of all the relationships with others that I’ve neglected over the years, I realize I’ve always put off my relationship with God, thinking that, well, I’ll meet Him someday — we’ll chat then.

But I realize now that even though I wasn’t much of a believer back then, I still had faith. I still thought things would work out right. And despite the fact that I’ve at least managed to open a line of communication to God, my faith is nowhere near as rock-solid as it once was.

I was very fortunate to connect with my old pastor yesterday; she reached out at a point when I was feeling like I didn’t have a friend left in the world. I acknowledge that it’s my choice to isolate myself. I don’t want to be isolated — it just seems to be less problematic in the end, that I don’t have to remember what I told to whom and whether an innocent remark would get mangled and passed along. Life never stops being like high school in that regard.

But I often think about how holding myself back, not sharing myself as I am, does such a disservice to me and maybe even to the world. Whose mold, exactly, am I trying to fit into? Why do I feel the need to apologize for things I think and feelings I have? I understand showing restraint and refinement. But at what point do you stop being yourself entirely, and how do you retain that person?

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. My apartment has been a source of financial and emotional stress because everything broke within the first week and everyone took their sweet time getting me my mailbox key, fixing my dishwasher/washing machine/sink/refrigerator and whatever else went kaput.

Mom’s apartment was another source of aggravation. I had approved another apartment for her, only to be moving in and signing the lease (while the moving guys held on to my credit card and my cell phone) and being told, no, you’ll take the one next door. We had agreed on a price, and they didn’t honor it. But when your shit is sitting in the middle of the street, your choices are limited.

My health has been better. I have these occasional bouts of anxiety, and I am having one right now. I had a tooth break out of my mouth and I am running a fever and getting headaches. Good times, yo. Good times.

I don’t like to talk about the bad stuff because it always feels like it multiplies. I would rather keep quiet, deflect questions, and count my blessings. Like, most of the apartment crap got fixed (minus the leaky roof. They’re clearly waiting for the rainy season to end to do something about it). The view is beautiful. My church is nice. I’m doing more interesting things at work.

But then I realize, now that I actually am starting to have a relationship with my mom again (having two apartments has helped greatly), that maybe I was wrong in getting two apartments. Her health is in rapid decline. I should have used the money to get her health taken care of. Instead of beating her up because she doesn’t have a job, I should be helping her to get to a point where she can actually sustain one.

It’s in those wee small moments where I start to get scared. Like, at least she has me to take care of her. And if I live to be old, I’ll be the crazy old cat lady or will be by myself in some government-run facility, left to rot because anyone who meant anything will have forgotten me because I wasn’t smart enough to at least keep up my friendships with people who actually cared about me.

And that’s where I want to meet the 22-year-old Goddess again. The girl who could see past the problems and into a place where things were better. I find myself very wrapped-up in the here-and-now. I also seem to have this complex where I think I *can* fix everything. I fall into a pattern where I’d rather hang onto the old problems than get new ones.

I met a guy on the A1A yesterday; he asked if I’m from around here and I said I live across the street. He cocked his head and said, “You aren’t from around here — you’re a city girl.” I said yeah. He said he splits his time between Florida and Chicago. I swooned that I LOVE Chicago, and he said, “If you spend all year living here, you’ll kill yourself. There’s nothing to do here. I hope you get to spend time in ‘real’ cities.”

I laughed and said I’m here to stay. We chit-chatted about how many older people wait their whole lives to get to Florida, and how so many younger people probably can’t wait to leave if they grew up here. I said I was hoping the slower pace would calm me down, to put life into perspective for me. But, we agreed, it’s a good home base to come back to — just as long as you can escape it from time to time.

It’s funny because, before I left the house yesterday, I asked the universe for a life-changing encounter. Just, put me in a conversation with someone with an outlook that can spark my imagination. And how funny that within an hour, I met John from Chicago.

I don’t know that there was any life-changing information exchanged. But to remember that the world is bigger than the space I take up in it was huge to me.

I guess what I take out of it is that we have myriad chances to get it right. And I’ve been focused on what I’ve seen are my “one chance” opportunities — that I have to get it all right on the first try, to live with what I didn’t get right, and to not look at the “greener grass” on the other side of whatever.

Maybe the grass is greener in other people’s yards. But what’s to stop me from kicking off my flip-flops and frolicking through their foliage and returning with a renewed outlook on mine?

Water all around

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

It’s Mom’s birthday, so I took her out for the day. I had to start some projects, so I exiled her for a while, but I requested she come visit right now because I bought a bunch of gourmet cupcakes and I’m in dire need of a cupcake break. 🙂

We went to the old apartment to pick up our mail, as no one’s been in a real rush to get me my mailbox key here and I haven’t forwarded the mail yet. The grass isn’t really greener here but the water is bluer, so that’s a start.

It was very sad to walk into the old place — I kept feeling Maddie’s presence there. She’s everywhere. I kept waiting for her to bounce out of one of her dozens of hiding places and greet me. No such luck. Nothing is there — and there’s nowhere she could even hide. But still, I will always look for her there. I’ll look for her everywhere, really.

I found myself really missing my grandparents more than usual today, too. My grandfather’s loss is more recent (almost three years), and what I wouldn’t give to have him telling me that everything will turn out right. He always said it would, and it always did. It’s just times like this when I’m not so sure that I could really use his absolute faith in me, since I’m having a major crisis of confidence and faith right now.

My grandmother’s been gone 10 years now. I remember less about her, but days like this, I really want to hear her telling me how everyone’s a fucking moron and not to worry about their stupid shit. I can clearly hear her in my head telling people to go “sit and spin,” and “fuck them if they don’t like it. And even if they do, fuck them anyway!”

This is why it’s so important to heal my relationship with my mom. I haven’t told her I loved her in two and a half years. I haven’t hugged her in almost as long. So when I hugged her and wished her happy birthday today, and told her I love her and I believe in her, she cried. She thought she’d lost me completely, and all it took was kicking her out to make it come back. 🙂

I realize now more than ever that all you really have is your family. Whether by blood or by bonding, nobody else in the world cares about you more. In a world where nobody gives much of a damn about anyone but themselves, it’s good to remember those who would do anything for you, and reward them accordingly with the love they deserve.

So, happy birthday, Mom. And prayers of love for Maddie, Gram and Grampy. Wish you could all see me now. Hope I am doing you proud. Watch out for me and help me through these scary times. And I’ll never forget who you were and how you live on in me. And fuck everyone else if they don’t like it. 😉

Church has been awesome the past two weeks. I mean, it’s usually good, but it’s been knock-your-socks-off these past two weeks.

Today they talked about retaining your contentment when you’re living the single life. I like to think that I’ve been just fine and dandy on my own, but lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m the only one not in on the joke in that regard.

In fighting my whole life to define who I am, I realize when you take away the one thing that defines me (usually work-related), it’s like there’s nothing discernible left.

I forced myself to do a whole lot of nothing yesterday, minus taking Mom to lunch and to buy her groceries. And I was a nervous fucking wreck all day. I haven’t sit still in months. I tried moving furniture and unpacking a bit, but it didn’t capture my attention. I retreated into my head and worried about why I wasn’t worrying enough!

So today’s church broadcast was good for me, in that I’m reminded that we’re all in a season of waiting for something. And that this something might not be meant for us now or ever, so what are we doing with this time to be productive and get closer to God … what are we doing to fill up our lives and not come to resent Him for what we don’t have?

I want to write again. Fiction or even a diary. (One in the same! LOL) I want to paint. I want to pontificate. I want to volunteer. I want to get my pudgy pork roast butt back to Weight Watchers (three months without it and I haven’t lost a pound. Go figure).

I find that I drop everything that means anything when my stress level rises. And that’s the absolute opposite of what I should be doing — I should schedule time for mandatory fun or, at least, mandatory dreaming time. Because without it, that’s why the stress level rises further.

I do thrive on adrenaline. I get wrapped up in the excitement of whatever’s going on. I drop everything to be available. But even though I want to give 100%, all the time, I know I can’t. I need to recharge. I come across as a taskmaster but I don’t bring an ounce of creativity to the process when I haven’t allowed myself to stop in my tracks and regenerate it.

Maybe I do it as a distraction from the things I don’t have — the things that I’ve always said were unimportant, even if my heart might have felt otherwise.

I caught myself blurting out the other day, “God I miss D.C.” But I really don’t. I mean, of course I do — that’s my adopted home. But I didn’t enjoy it enough while I had it.

I’m where I’m supposed to be right now, and I don’t want to make the same mistake and neglect to form and sustain a real relationship with my surroundings. I hope I never lose my sense of wonder at the beautiful view from my balcony. I hope I never forget to breathe it in and feel as lucky as I am to be surrounded by water.

I hope I can get better about reminding myself that I am lucky to have my mom. A lot of people don’t have their mom. I have one person on this earth who thinks I walk on water. Even those who’ve supposedly found their soulmates might not even have that.

I have so many more talents and ideas than I ever let on. I try so hard just to work through life challenge after life challenge, problem after problem, task after task. That’s not the right outlet for creativity, although it helps. 😉 I’m very much hoping that my pretty little place (leaky roof and all) with the inspirational view will wake up the sleeping Goddess and I’ll soon unleash everything she’s been waiting to give to the world.

I don’t wait around well. And as I was reminded today, waiting and worrying does nothing to add hours to your life. So you might as well get off your ass and make every hour count. Maybe it’ll make the time go faster till my season of waiting draws to a close. …