for you

Why has it taken me three days to unpack from this last trip to New York?

I want to make it a goal to post everyday again. Lulu's got her new column up for work, and Roger recently started his long-overdue blog hosted on Tumblr. Lulu's voice makes me remember things about myself I tend to forget, and Roger's editing does, too. I think it was too easy to shift this blog from intimate to anonymous, but I want to get back to writing about what's going on in my life. (I know there are some readers who want to know!) Doesn't a part of your brain atrophy when you don't write reflectively? I think part of it is that the quantity I read (in blogs) and write overall has dropped frighteningly down to a tiny percentage of what it was two years ago, and I definitely would prefer certain individuals to never know anything about my life. But how boring is it to have a medium and not express anything truly personal through it.

Well, here we go again. Let's start:

Why has it taken me three days to unpack from this last trip? I flew in Sunday night and began work the very next (daylight-saved) morning. I just started work at an OFFICE again, which gives me a routine I enjoy, but the environment scares me at the same time. In other words, slavery. But I will count my blessings. Plus, during my first lunch hour, I grabbed a cab to Laurel Heights and interviewed for a possible new publishing project I would love to take on.

I still have a heavy list of chores and work to complete before the weekend, and uncompleted tasks torment me these days like nothing else. Except maybe crumbs in bed and the smell of cigarette smoke absorbed forever in fabric. And nightmares, of course.

I left something behind in New York, but found a brand new ukulele under my covers when I came back. I played the intro to "Postcards from Italy" a little, and promised myself I'd practice until I was actually musical. I feel both sad and lifted. I wonder what the next days will bring.