as I sit here in my 8th floor office, gazing out the window at a wall of white, hazy, foggy, misty air. . .I can’t help but wonder when the hell the sun will come out again. It’s getting to me, all this greyness, this nothingness. It’s making me stircrazy just a little bit.
I finally had the opportunity to explain to my husband why it is that I felt the need for a fresh start on the web. I explained to him that I felt a little boxed in at my previous site and that, while it was entertaining for me to go back and read about my past, I no longer really felt connected to it. There is nothing about my past that I’m ashamed of or that I regret too terribly, although we all have skeletons in the closet. I told him that starting over here was a lot like buying a new blank notebook to write in. Sometimes you just need a blank slate to unlock all of what was stuck up in your head, waiting to get out. I’ve written more here in the past week than I have in the past few months. I used to journal rather extensively. During my senior year of high school, my AP English teacher had us journal and submit it to her. She didn’t read it unless you wanted her to. You’d indicate that by putting an asterisk at the bottom of the page, otherwise she was just counting to see that you had the required number of entries per quarter. I exceeded the requirements, nearly filling a composition book for the first time, a feat I haven’t repeated since. I feel that desire to just write it all down, or in this case, type it all out, coming back. There is so much left to be said. There are so many more thoughts left to explore, flesh out, develop. This is all very much part of who I am, always has been, always will be. I think I’ve just been ignoring it for some time. Yesterday I was contacted by some folks I hadn’t heard from in years. Folks from lazy days at the coffee house. Brought back all of the memories of myself at 17-18, so full of desire to explore, to write, to see, to experience. No filter. No need for one. Just wide open eyes, ears. I think I’m about to regain that mindset again. . .just in time to save myself from becoming a boring 31 year old, stuck in a rut. It’s a good thing.