Nothing of consequence to report.
Wait. Did I really just write that? Let me clarify…there is no consequential action taking place right now.
Unless hang-wringing counts as action.
Life’s questioning, pondering, planning and reorganizing has been having a way with me these last weeks. It’s been hard to find a quiet moment. Like when PMS traps me in an inescapable bad mood, I am enveloped in a swirling fog of choice and decision. Where do we live? How do we live? Why not sell a car? The house? Should I be writing? Speaking? Something else? What’s important? What does happiness mean? What will our girl learn from watching us?
God. When did I turn into such an adult?
So. There really is nothing to say at the moment. It would be like grasping at that swirling fog, expecting to come up with a handful of, well, something. We’re just in it for the moment.
Now, where did I put that compass?