Lately my time is stretched so thin I don’t even know what to make of it – I swear it falls away faster than ever before and I feel it within the ribbon of the day, I find myself savoring the moments because they are all we have when all is said and done, these moments right now. This week is the first week in months when the sun has shone every day in a row. I find myself eager to walk the dogs in the morning, we take our time as we walk the length of Jackie Robinson Park, say hello to neighbors sitting, sipping morning coffee. All these pictures have been taken along that stretch of park, and tomorrow morning I will have to photograph the lilies – they’ve just come up and they are gorgeous.
New York is where I learned how to take time to admire the flowers. It’s also where I learned how to walk with my chin up but that’s a story for another day.
Things are good. I feel like I’ve been really absent from this blog lately. Content on this site has been nothing but sprinkles of post–dinner pillow talk for days. The funny thing is I’ve been writing constantly. I have pages and pages of stories and ideas for stories scrawled into various notebooks, written on the train or the wee waking hours of the morning. I just don’t have the time to type them out. Or else I look over it later and decide its garbage, no one wants to read that. Puh-leez. Moron.
So I’m a little creatively blocked, maybe. Or maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m writing something that I’m not ready to show yet and maybe it will grow into something wonderful and fabulous, something I don’t even realize I’ve thought of yet. I don’t know you guys. Sometimes everything just feels so complicated.
But things are good. I’m happy. Work is exciting. I’m being challenged every single day, crazy challenged, my brain is actually physically exhausted at the end of every day and then I can’t sleep because apparently my brain relaxes by running a list of five thousand things I haven’t done yet that need to get done tomorrow what the hell are you waiting for?
I know, right? I’m beginning to think that maybe I’m a little bit OCD. There are just all these little signs. And there’s also the fact that cleaning my apartment has become the single most relaxing thing I do in the entire day. How weird is that? Is it weird?
The other day Michael and I had a fight – ok, I had a fight – long story short we had a misunderstanding and I stewed over it for way too long and then the other morning he walked into the kitchen and I was on my knees scrubbing underneath the stove and sobbing, scrubbing was the only way I could think of to soothe myself. And he was like, “what happened?” and I hid my face in my hands, so embarrassed was I for how angry I felt over this thing, when I knew he wasn’t even the right person to be angry at. So then I said that, too. And he pulled me into his chest and I cried until I got it all out and then he made me breakfast.
Our days are salty and sweet, full of tiny thrills and minor stings. I feel like for the first time in my life I’m actually living.