Idk

I’m having a problem with follow through on my stories right now. Writing them, that is

And a little bit on reading new books. I’ve thrown a bunch onto my DNF shelf. One of which I dnf’d so hard I mentally started rewriting it in my imagination then flipping it over to a story I had started once upon a time.

So much so that I started looking for the file. But my cloud storage is a confusing batch of storms, none of which I found it in. Which means I should look for it on my laptop. But my desk is full with my work computer and stuff for work and I don’t want to cross that boundary.

Which I get it. I have a whole a$$ house to set up in. And I have too much crap and I get it under control and then it slips the leash and goes out of control and yada yada yada. Just put the work in, and I can have a working solution. I could have the home I want.

And yet something almost always stops me. And that something is me.

I know how I became my own worst enemy in this. Anyone have any suggestions? Because I don’t know how to fix this.

First Rejection & Snow

Of the year. And it’s fine, it’s part of the process. It’s fine. I read somewhere once that being rejected just means your story has not found a home yet.

What hurts is that in the midst of the s**t show of the last few years, I lost both my physical log and the computer log of where I had submitted which stories.

In the rejection letter they were absolutely both extremely professional and kind. Especially since I had apparently submitted that story to them in 2021.

Sigh.

So many emotions are swirling in me right now. A morass. Not because of the rejection of the story. It will find its home.

And it hit hard because I’m trying to find my footing in my new home. Most of that is working through the mental state that I arrived in. My home is still in disarray, and when I lay in bed and close my eyes I see my old room. My old life.

Friday night & Saturday morning we experienced our first snowfall that stuck. My son still calls California home. Sunday we went to lunch with my niece & her family, and I borrowed a shirt for a wedding next weekend. Wednesday I put my kid on a plane to our old home to visit– and I’m hoping he gets on the plane back 12 days later. I’m hoping he doesn’t get into trouble.

I’m also looking forward to time without him. Time to make a freaking mess of the house so I can put it together the way I want to.

My words are messy, but they are coming out. I’ve got 2 stories I’m working on because well, messy. I wrote a poem.

I talk to my bestie on the phone everyday. She’s still in Cali, and is my backup with the almost adult boy I’m sending out there. I miss her. I have family here but haven’t made friends yet. I also don’t really go anywhere– haven’t even been to the library yet. I do recognize the cashier at the Dollar General, but I’m sure I’m just another face in the day to her.

Well. This has gotten a lot more personal than I thought it would. Hope you don’t mind. My brain doesn’t feel as messy.

Until next time, my lovelies!

Momcation

I haven’t been by myself in a house for an extended amount of time in… Years. I always have my son (15) or my dad (95) around or coming back. It’s wonderful. I love my family. But….

I used to love living by myself too. I’ve always kept myself occupied– readings writing, television. I’m not one that gets bored and stays bored. The quiet is a friend of mine- it allows a moment of reflection, a deep sigh.

Thanks to Caltrans and my Best friend I just had that. A glorious Sunday through Thursday morning where I stayed in a house all by my lonesome. Caltrans closed the freeway that I need to get to work. (Not a work vacation, alas). My BF is travelling, and offered her house. I have to tell you….

It. Was. Glorious.

I wrote and sent out cards. I didn’t cook ANYTHING. Frozen all the way. And after work, I went to the real happiest place on earth, Barnes and Noble, and bought many wonderful magazines. One was brand new to me, called Oh, Reader and I read every single article in it. Which has inspired me– to do magazine reviews. Share what I’m loving. Maybe a few book reviews in there too.

The fact is that I miss blogging. I miss sharing the things I love, and boy do I love books and magazines!

I love my family. Of course I do.

But I missed myself, and didn’t even realize what had been missing in my life was ME.

Home-sick

I am homesick.

For my little bitty apartment, on Sesame Street. The one with not enough plugs in the kitchen, or counter space. The one where the windows didn’t always work quite right, and the screen door was falling off it’s hinges.

You know the one. The one where my son grew up. Where he ran around a big looping figure 8 around the chair, did his Yo-Gabba dance (a galloping, thigh slapping dance) the first time. The place where Brian, Ray and I were invincible. A family.

Safe. Together.

I called over there today, asked what a 2 bedroom would cost. I know that a 1 bedroom would be just a little bit too small for the 3 of us now.

But I want to go home. I don’t know how I’ll do it. I don’t know how… because almost all my money is going to daycare and gas. But I’ll find a way.

I told Brian tonight, on the phone, that I want to go back. That I need to go back home to sesame street. There’s no back yard for Ray to play in, but the rent’s do-able if Brian starts working fairly quickly, and it’s central to bus lines and stores and parks and all sorts of stuff.

I want to go home.

I want to go home.

I want to go home.