burnt sienna

Photo Credit: ygnaz

The day after Halloween is always a sad one. Walking down the street in a hungover haze, with last night's eyeliner smeared under my eyes, face paint caked under my fingernails, and a mound of responsibilities to get back to, the world seems less bright. The pumpkins have lost their grins, beginning to sag, some broken and chipped, others on their sides now having served their purpose.

And those beautiful autumn leaves that the sun shone through yesterday, that are responsible for color names like "sienna" and "currant," are just "brown" today. They crunch without satisfaction, sending dust into the air, but mostly lay lifeless, no indication of once being green or having experienced golden years.

Today, stores will pull out their ornaments and lights, prop up plush turkeys, and begin advertising those Black Friday. Soon, instead of candy corn frappes, it's pumpkin spice lattes and peppermint mochas. For me, it's some Thanksgiving blend coffee that tastes no different than a seasonless cup. And it shouldn't taste different, because nothing has empirically changed. Except it has.

The sun sets at 4:30, cans of sweet potatoes laden in sugar line the produce section, and an impending winter can't be ignored anymore. Flip flops are thrown to the back of the closet, pea coats flung on the bed to be dry cleaned, and windows shut at night.

excuses ahoy

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.

Uninspired

And kinda hoping a vacation/break/running away will work. I've got very little to say other than that. Let's hope something gets something else going.

You're doing it wrong

...like I can't do anything right. I feel like I wasted three days. What a depressing, un-empowering day this has already been.

Annoyed

At being bogged down with details preventing me from moving forward.

I Feel

Nervous.