You guys. I’m sorry to be so absent, but I just don’t have anything to say. I’m not even interesting to myself right now and for the first time in a long time, don’t actually have a single story to tell. Everything in the last year was so full of turmoil or stress of one kind or another, my current day-to-day, in comparison, is so spectacularly dull. I mean, getting my very first ticket ever was this big nothing. I got pulled over. I got my ticket. I went on with life and because it wasn’t say, getting robbed or trying to save someone you love from starving themselves to death, the blemishing of my perfect record wasn’t quite the crisis situation I’d have imagined it to be.
My days go a little something like this: I go to work at a job I tragically, really like, so you know, there’s no drama to dig up there. I come home to a husband I also really like. Sometimes we talk about his Chemistry homework. Sometimes we bake things. Most times we pile on the couch with our fur children and stay there real cozy like until bedtime. Lather, rinse, repeat.
See? Spectacularly dull.
You know Picasso’s Blue Period? Clearly this is Heather’s Lazy Period. And without the gift of retrospect, I have no idea how long it’s going to last. I do know that for someone who is (probably unhealthily) innervated by crisis, all this peace and quiet has been a bit disquieting. Naturally, I tell myself to enjoy it while it lasts but come on. Enjoy what? Seriously, give me a limping kitten to save or a dilapidated shack to renovate because, oh my god, I need something to do.
And then, surely, I’d have something to say.