Y’all miss me yet? I’ve missed you, and I apologize for my extended absence. Life has been bloody crazy lately, so I’ve been too busy living to sit down and write about everything. Truth be told, I’m still in the thick of it (actually, I’m in the motherfucking deep end of the proverbial pool without my water wings, bit hey, I don’t seem to be drowning. Yet.), but I figured I deserved a coffee and blog break on a rainy, more than kind of busy Friday afternoon. It’s all about taking the time to enjoy the little things. The past week has certainly proved me the veritable truth of that sentiment.
I wish I were in a position to be able to tell you guys everything that’s happening right now, all the crazy stories of the past 8-or-so days that you probably wouldn’t believe anyways…but the thing is, I can’t. I have too much hanging in the balance, too many things on the go, too much to hang on to and too much to lose to put it all at risk.
I’m starting to understand why Vega could not wrap his simple little mind around my past-the things I consider normal, everyday challenges and occurrences would rock his world and break his brain. I’m also starting to understand why I felt so viscerally wrong with his grandmother’s ring on my finger, why my gut was always in a knot when I tried to imagine myself as his wife. Four letter word du jour – a three way tie between ring, wife, and Vega. Irony is, of course, present and accounted for – Vega’s real name is a four letter word, too. I digress.
I’m taking my 2nd coffee break now, 9:11 in the evening but my work has barely even begun. Again, I can’t say much and it is frustrating and not really helping my mood but hey.
Ride or die old lady life ain’t easy.
That’s why I love it. That and the sexy, brilliant man I get to spend the majority of my time with.
Most of the girls that I know are starting to dream of kids and houses and white weddings – which I wholeheartedly support, so long as it makes them happy. This is my equivalent, although it is entirely a different ballgame. I feel like I was born on Mars sometimes, but I’ve also learned that its okay. Really.
To paraphrase my mother, what would become of green if everyone liked purple?
Anyways. I need to get my poop in a group, put Marcellus to bed, and get my shit going.
True to form, I’m still a night owl.
More when I can.
For now, just send good juju and lots of love our way. That’s really all I can ask for in the world.
I’m a lucky, lucky woman.