launch

Writing blog posts is towards the bottom of my list lately, but only because I am moving soon and my list is full of delightful tasks like, "check hiking boots for spiders" and "drain bank account to pay for rent and deposit." Once those tasks are checked off, however, I'll be back to blogging about absolutely nothing. Wonderful!

Both my mind and time are occupied with the BIG MOVE. This really is a gigantic leap, fellas. And ladies. I didn't quite realize it until yesterday that WHOA -- this is the first time in my life that I will be living totally on my own. No roommates. An entire fridge to myself. An entire kitchen to myself. Walking around WHENEVER with no pants on. The only sad thing? I can't steal my roommate's cereal anymore. Just kidding, like I ever did that... Pssh. Pssh again because YES, I TOTALLY DID THAT.

I lied. Not about the cereal, but about it being the only sad thing. There are lots of little sad things about moving and leaving a place -- and there is one giant sad thing about leaving my mom's home: My mom. I have been more than lucky to spend these past two years getting to know my mom (and myself) better. We have formed a stronger bond and I can say for certainty that she is my best friend. I could dwell on the things I wish I would have done while living down here or I could be thankful for all that I was able to do. I'll go with the latter. I had a good break down here. I needed it. And I think my mom did, too.

But now I am moving on. And I don't know why exactly. I wish I had a more sure, solid plan. I wish I had a more obvious reason for moving instead of "I just feel like I need to." I sometimes wish my heart would be quiet and allow my head to do some of the talking.

Three forty-two in the afternoon. This is a rough time for us, folks. Or at least it is for me. Is it hard for other people? I would imagine it is. Isn't this the time when there are the most accidents on the road? Drowsy drivers, crashing from their caffeine crash. The smart ones take siestas. Or eat a snack. I do neither, but I do drink half a Rockstar and wander around a park trying to lose myself in the trees and the clouds so I don't lose myself in the waves of anxiety. Yes, I know. The energy drink doesn't help the anxiety. I guess I occasionally like playing with fire.

Speaking of fire, I think I have a fireplace in my new place. No. Yes? I don't know. It doesn't matter too much to me because all I really want is a fridge stocked with local produce and local beer (kidding, mama!) (but the occasional beer is okay, too) and local Rockstar energy drinks. I also want a tent in my room in lieu of a bed. I really do. I will feel safe in my tent, dammit! All I want is to feel safe.

I will write more. Later. I will publish this. Now. I will remember how the candy Now & Laters are terrible for my teeth. I will remember how terrible my teeth are and how terribly frightened I am of the dentist. I will remember that avoidance won't magically make every cavity disappear, won't make everything better. I will remember that I have to gently stop being scared of my own life and start being open to whomever and whatever, so long as they are respectful and it is healthy. I will remember to take off my boots before getting into my tent in my room in my very own first apartment. I will remember to remember what I try so hard to forget. I will like myself, I will like myself at my best and worst moments, I will like all of my cavities and clouds as well as my light and unchanging sky.