I have stories to tell you. Hence why I started this bloggy blog. But I am finding it hard to choose which ones to tell first. I started with my tattoo story because it shows you what a Bad Ass wannabe I am…while at the same time, hopefully showing you that I WILL do stuff. I WILL commit.
So where do I go now…hmmmm….
My other goal here is to sit and write EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. and then hit publish. No scheduled posts. Just write and run.
I have no idea what that is going to produce. Could be a jumble of nonsensical words (um, this post?) or it could be gold, Jerry! (Seinfeld reference? no? you’re killing me).
Anyway, I was sitting outside yesterday. We have a deck with a couple Adirondack chairs and a lounge chair. This is pretty much my favorite place in/around our whole house. It’s my spot.
So I was sitting in one of the chairs with my book. It was warm, there was a breeze, and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
Time is a weird thing. When I am outside with my eyes closed, I could be 15 again. I could be at my parents’ house again. I could be on the dock again. The sun on my face and the breeze across my skin? Is timeless. It’s felt the same to me my whole life.
But then I open my eyes and I am on a deck to a house that I own with a husband. I have a kid inside that house who is napping in a nursery I helped prepare for him.
I have a career. I have debt. I have responsibilities that I don’t even really understand all the way.
I am an adult.
I closed my eyes again because sometimes? I don’t feel like being in this time. The adult that I am.