It's been well over a year and a half since I've written here. Granted, anyone with a basic grasp of counting months could have deduced this. Why?
Laziness.
Busy-ness.
Burned-outness.
That sums up about a year worth of why I haven't written
The last six months, I blame change-ness. New home, new city, new career, new friendships and relationships, and an end to old ones.
Change sucks. But it's ok. Because it's temporary, in theory. Things can't be influx forever -- that's what my shrink says anyway. There's a whole entry in here about co-pays, but I'll save that for another entry.
The thing is, change involves plopping barefoot over an unpaved road, tip-toeing around the particularly shop rocks marking the path, hopping from shaded-spot to shaded-spot in hopes of avoiding burns and blisters.
And no matter how uncomfortable it is, when you stop to look back you notice that
1) you don't turn into salt and
2) you can't imagine trekking back
In fact, you can't imagine how you stayed so long. Or why. Who stays loyally in a burning city because the thought of change just seems too uncomfortable? Apparently me.
But now - barefoot, uncomfortable, schlepping, prickled, and blistered - it doesn't matter. Because I got out, long before I was burned beyond healing.
As it stands, I'll liken staying to irresponsibly trying to remove a pan of brownies from the oven without mitts.
But that's ok too. Lucky for me, Neosporin is a plenty.
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