build

My fingers aren't used to this furious blog post typing anymore. One week! One week away and it's as if my fingers have forgotten all they used to know, not that they knew much. But now they know how to hang up curtain rods and dob cabins. I don't even know if I am saying that correctly -- "dob buildings" -- or if that was even what I did for eight hours straight under the open Wyoming sky, but words are just words. Point is, I'm back. I learned a lot, mostly about myself and a little bit about restoring historic buildings. I'm back, I'm still catching up on sleep, I'm still unpacking, I'm still checking for ticks. I'm back, but in many ways it feels like (wait for it) I never left. Yes, in a weird twist of fate, Wyoming has become at the very least a second home. I never would have guessed the reddest state in America would be a haven for my soul.

Although I am properly caffeinated this Sunday morning, I doubt I have it in me to unload every experience and emotion I had over the past seven days. That sounds like an overwhelming task to say the least. It is a "task" I'd like, and probably need, to write down at some point, though. I don't want what I learned, what I saw, what I thought to fade away. I will say right now, however, that it was an overall positive experience. It was a week where I was tested and failed multiple times, but also picked myself back up and began again. That alone is a success, yeah? Yeah.

Gee whiz, I am out of practice writing. I wrote in a teeny, tiny journal while in Wyoming, though! Every day! And every entry was kinda scattered and all over the place and full of whiny complaints and anxious ramblings! I wrote some nice, sensitive things as well. I also chewed a lotta tobacco up there PSYCH but I did chew a lot of gum because my ear kept popping and it was driving me bananas and no, I did not eat a single banana on the trip. I ate not a lot on the trip, to be honest... Which is stupid, I know, and sad. But there came a point when I was walking in the middle of sage brush towards some abandoned cabins when I had maybe an epiphany? Or at least an enormous burst of motivation to heal. To live and not let outside influences (and the almighty inside inner critic) get the best of me. Or get any of me. Still, I know I have a long way to go. But at least I found that spark to continue. And to eat bananas, and anything, far more regularly.

Will write more later, whether it be here or in a teeny, tiny journal. Take care of yourself and don't let the abandoned cabin door hit you on the way out (it won't because the door is boarded up). <3