I have missed this space.
The reading of other blogs gives me this peek into the lives of people who feel like old friends. I can sit on my couch on a Sunday morning drinking coffee, wrapped in the most comfy of blankets, and catch up with these old friends. I have missed that.
The writing of this blog gives me a chance to sift through feelings that seem otherwise positively unsiftable! The Universe knows that my poor husband is probably tired of listening to me sift through them out loud.
I'm a terrible blogger. And I just read this article wherein science proves that writing, particularly blogging, about feelings and experiences helps with all that emotional stuff that we all have to deal with, and some of us in particular have a more difficult time dealing with.
I'm wondering if there could be an exact correlation between the amount of ever increasing anxiety I feel and the fact that I'm writing less. If I was good at the maths I'd try to figure that out, but I'm not, and so I won't bother.
Because I'm trying to also participate in life more (Thanks Charlie for that moniker.) Let me leave you with a list of my current anxieties. I will elaborate more because the internets is nothing if not my therapist.
- My son is fourteen and in high school.
- Middle school where I am teaching is challenging, but I also love it?
- My sister is not speaking to me.
- We are never going to get pregnant.
- They are killing dolphins in Japan.
- My Yukon, that I love, is not fuel efficient. It's also not environmentally friendly. I worry a great deal about the environment.
- The state of my closet, and whether or not I should be doing a capsule wardrobe in all neutrals. I want to be a minimalist, but based upon the look of my closet I am definitely failing at that.
- Suicide rates are rising.
- Literacy rates are declining.
Some of these are silly, but they're mine. Some of these I can control; most of them I can't.