One whole week after this trip, and I'm finally getting my post-vacation sea legs back. That is, I finally stopped feeling like someone v. important to me had died every time I woke up to go to work. This last week was...subpar, to say the least. My clothes didn't fit right, no music seemed to hit the spot, food tasted lackluster, and I slept like shit. And I keep having dreams about having babies with male celebrities. First it was Russell Simmons, then it was Justin Timberlake. What? Someone interpret that for me. WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?
I mentioned in my last post that I was toying with making a very irresponsible, rash decision, but here I am on a Sunday evening with nothing to show for it. No, I didn't make the decision. I didn't take the leap. But I DID order a pan pizza and some cheesy breadsticks and consumed it while watching the Chandler/Monica wedding episode. So, it's not like it was ALL a loss, but I'm still feeling frazzled in my innards, wanting so badly to make that leap. To make a giant change and just see what happens. I'll get there eventually. I think now may not quite be the time. More on that another day.
That being said, I'm slowly returning back to normal post vacation. Friends help. Cats help. And generally just breathing and faking it helps, too. Shit feelings don't last forever. In fact, 97% of the time, they move right along just like any other feeling. That's a lesson I'm learning. It only took me 28 years and thousands of dollars of therapy to realize it, but HEY, MAN. Whatever works.
I've found my routine again--remembered how much I love my walks to work and how much I enjoy the first 10 minutes of my workday when I can sip coffee and settle in to whatever it is I've got on my plate for the next 8 hours. I remembered how much I love coming home and eating the remaining Easter candy in my coffee table candy bowl. Don't judge. Cadbury mini eggs forever. And I love the last 30 minutes of my day when I read in bed while the goddamn cats run around the house like rabid tigers pulling tufts of each others' fur out. And then they inevitably collapse on the bed with me and give each other conciliatory albeit aggressive brother baths. EVERY NIGHT, guys. Every night they do this. And I love it.
So, with this last batch of photos from Syncro Solstice (and my favorite batch by far) I say to myself--Amy, it's ok to live a stable, boring life. At least it's ok for where you're at now. Don't forget you moved to Seattle, and that doing that was a huge leap forward for a hermit like you. The routine you're in now in no way negates the adventures to come. Just chill.the.fuck.out. Take it slowly. And just start planning the next big one.
Have a good week, champions. May you enjoy the little wins and tiny beauties of your routines, however boring they may be.