It’s funny (odd not ha ha) how many times I’ve started and STOPPED writing this post.
For some reason, as I brain-dumped and wrote, it kept feeling as though it didn’t ‘fit” here,
Which is crazy (the batshit not the fun kind) as this is simply a blog.
My place for ramblings and musings and sharing what’s happening around here.
So I stopped writing (again) and I returned to the beginning of the year (again) and I challenged myself (again).
What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life?
And I reminded myself there’s no compartmentalizing (upheavals, marriage counseling, exhaustion in one nice, tidy little box with BOOK DEAL!, VENUS WILLIAMS!!, SMILEY HAPPY CHILD! wrapped up in another) and no judgement.
It’s all just life.
So I share.
And none to the surprise of anyone who’s watched or hung out with me over the past 18 months:
I’m sad and disappointed.
(oddly, this is neither her sad nor her disappointed face.)
On *top* of that I imagine this move like having a baby:
The last one was recently ENOUGH I haven’t had a chance to forget the pain and think:
oooh this mightcould be fun!
Right now, however, sad & disappointed are emotions I don’t have the luxury of time for.
As much as I want to whine I just found my OAKTOWNgroove & throw a fit about wanting to SAVOR our book release & NOT rush through (OK, I may have done both–but only once) I can’t.
I need to make this my personal mantra in hopes she’ll follow suit:
Attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure.
While this post has no real point other than if I seem
more scattered than usual this is why *and* anyone wanna buy a house?! I have had two realizations as Ive pondered uprooting again.
The first is about time.
I frequently yammer at the Child how *time* is our most valuable resource. Unlike almost everything else in our lives we cannot make more.
As I’ve slowly begun to share about our move the refrain Ive heard most frequently is: I’d thought we had more time.
For hanging out.
For working together.
Each time the sentiment has been uttered I’m reminded of the quote below.
It’s something I’m choosing to keep firmly in mind as I ready to move and after I land back in Texas.
The second is Ive decided this time I’m not lying to myself.
Positive self-deception helped me ROCK the transition here—but this time I’m older, I’m wiser, I’m MOVE’ier.
This move I’m a realist.
I’m meeting myself where I am, I’m deciding whatever I can do is enough.
I am — in a quite serious fashion— #wycwyc’ing my move.
I can’t lie. I’m tempted to try the fake it till I make it.
I read a post about Friday night dinners, loneliness, and building community and, as much as I long to add *here*:
Back-in-Texas-Carla will host weekly Friday night free-for-alls!
I wonder if it’s possible in a new neighborhood (again).
When you don’t really know anyone yet (again).
When you’re working and busy *and* wiped the heck out (again, again, & new).
Perhaps I’ll surprise myself.
Perhaps Ill look back at this post some day in the future *after* hosting a Friday night somethingsomething and laugh I didn’t think I could.
Until then it’s time for packing….