Timing is Everything
Holy crap, it's been a year.
In short, I think I am finally in a place where I'll have internet reliably again, and this means I am much more likely to have a virtual pulse now. Summer was no surprise, but the incredibly tumultuous months that preceded this summer were shocking and taxing and wild. Thank god that's done.
In not so short:
I am choosing to gloss over the multitude of things in this past year that have ranged from annoying to just plain awful. One thing is universal, and that is that life is hard. This year has been hard, but easier still than things I've faced before. I am happy to report that despite pulling the plug on my day job, I am not yet utterly destitute, or trying to figure out how to get on welfare, for that matter. I am, by no means, a person of anything but humble means, but I am getting by, and that's all that you can ask for. I expect work to pick up more, especially after the new year as things with the economy continue to stabilize.
I no longer own a house, and yes, this is good news. The ex and I sold it, and quite happily, the whole affair is done. This will certainly make it easier to actually move on.
And speaking of moving, at the end of this month, I may be able, after a full year of trying, to actually finalize my move. Once I finish with my current major free lance project (hello, four months of bills), I'll be in a place that is mine. Not a guest room, not a weigh station, not a temporary situation, but one place, with my own bed, my own kitchen table, my own space. I've learned to build altars this year. I've learned to let more go. I'm starting to feel more solid than water again.
My heart is hopeful, too. I've met a writer this year, and he's shades dorkier than I am: always a good sign, in my world. Things are proceeding very, very slowly, but I might just be willing, after a pretty substantial heart break, to let something male into that space again. I'm not one of those people that needs to be in a relationship, but thus far, wading into these waters has not yet left me with cold feet.
I have missed this part of my life. The writers and characters that live in this space are like whispers in my head. Shadows. They hang around, and I think of them, and look forward to getting a better peek at them. I hope that you all are reasonably well, and I do hope to catch you around. You know how to find me.
In short, I think I am finally in a place where I'll have internet reliably again, and this means I am much more likely to have a virtual pulse now. Summer was no surprise, but the incredibly tumultuous months that preceded this summer were shocking and taxing and wild. Thank god that's done.
In not so short:
I am choosing to gloss over the multitude of things in this past year that have ranged from annoying to just plain awful. One thing is universal, and that is that life is hard. This year has been hard, but easier still than things I've faced before. I am happy to report that despite pulling the plug on my day job, I am not yet utterly destitute, or trying to figure out how to get on welfare, for that matter. I am, by no means, a person of anything but humble means, but I am getting by, and that's all that you can ask for. I expect work to pick up more, especially after the new year as things with the economy continue to stabilize.
I no longer own a house, and yes, this is good news. The ex and I sold it, and quite happily, the whole affair is done. This will certainly make it easier to actually move on.
And speaking of moving, at the end of this month, I may be able, after a full year of trying, to actually finalize my move. Once I finish with my current major free lance project (hello, four months of bills), I'll be in a place that is mine. Not a guest room, not a weigh station, not a temporary situation, but one place, with my own bed, my own kitchen table, my own space. I've learned to build altars this year. I've learned to let more go. I'm starting to feel more solid than water again.
My heart is hopeful, too. I've met a writer this year, and he's shades dorkier than I am: always a good sign, in my world. Things are proceeding very, very slowly, but I might just be willing, after a pretty substantial heart break, to let something male into that space again. I'm not one of those people that needs to be in a relationship, but thus far, wading into these waters has not yet left me with cold feet.
I have missed this part of my life. The writers and characters that live in this space are like whispers in my head. Shadows. They hang around, and I think of them, and look forward to getting a better peek at them. I hope that you all are reasonably well, and I do hope to catch you around. You know how to find me.