{I don't know if I'll even post this, or if I'm just doing some therapeutic writing.}
I noticed last night that I only posted nine times in the entire month of January. NINE. That's terrible. I think my creative juices are blocked because of what I'm trying not to say.
I hate to get too "heavy" on this here little, ol' blog. Life is "heavy" enough without dwelling on it. I prefer to find the things to laugh about. I survive finding the things to laugh about.
But, we're officially moved in. Life is in a routine. I clean. I run errands. I cook dinner. Shawn goes to work. The kids go to school. The four of us have never gotten along so well together or had so much fun with each other.
And, I'm lonely.
Now, here's the primary reason I will hesitate to publish this post: I don't want all of my friends from the old hometown calling everyone they know up here, putting out a APB on the lonely girl. I don't want to be set up on a million blind dates.
I also don't want to be pitied. I will be fine. I will make friends. I'm not at all worried about that. I just want all of that to have happened yesterday. We've discussed my complete lack of patience before, haven't we?
I just want time to move faster. I want to go to those events; help out at that school function; go to dinner with Shawn's associates; and, get to know people. And, I want it to happen now. I want to have my place in this space.
That all takes time.
{I just re-read this. "I want. I want. I want." I can almost hear God saying, "Yeah, Al. But, that's not what you need. I got this. Relax." (But, I don't literally hear Him. I promise. I don't hear voices. Yet.) Have you ever heard that saying, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." I like that. I am that.}
Ok. I just needed to say it type it out loud. I feel better. The first one of you to pity me or call "because you're worried about me," is going to get kicked in the crotch.
Let the sarcasm resume.
{What do you know? I decided to post it...}
