Waiting is not a strong point of mine. Two of My People moved away on sabbatical last June and, despite a 2-week visit with them in February, I am aching for them to get home. I can now count their arrival in hours, not months or weeks or days, and somehow it’s way more excruciating than it was the whole time.

I keep looking at the clock. It’s not helping.


I don’t know what I hope to accomplish here. Mostly I want to begin keeping a record again. Facebook is fine with its “on this date” reminders but I prefer a timeline, a longer connection to my life, a thread I can follow backwards. My freewriting is good but it’s not the same. I’ve gone past a bit rusty into heavy garbage items, and it’s time to rescue my sad recording skills from the curb and try again.

I can’t even write more than a paragraph. I used to think in blog posts; now I think in status updates. Or worse, just hashtags. Yikes! I know the world at large doesn’t care about what’s going on in my tiny corner of it, but I feel like I should be paying more attention. Besides – writing helps me process. I have quite the backlog to get through! It feels like my whole life has been in a clump in my chest for the past decade or so.

Bullet journaling was The Thing for a minute there but I realized I wasn’t keeping up with it. Maybe the little items at the end of my posts will work out. I always did like filling these out – all the way back to 2003 (and probably earlier but I can’t find the earlier posts)!

I feel like this is going to be a private-but-public kind of thing. I don’t intend to tell many people this is here. I’m not linking this to any social media or pingbacks or even opening up comments. I mostly just want to get out the words I feel and keep them somewhere pretty.


listeningplaylist based on "I wanna dance with somebody"
eatingleftover chicken strips
readingkinsey millhone series
watchinglast season of Voyager
planningworld domination
lovingmy people