True story: Sometimes I don’t write blog posts simply because I cannot think of a good title. Sometimes I don’t write them because I don’t think anybody really cares about regular boring life shit. Then I have to emotionally smack myself around a bit until I remember that while I did start this particular blog with the intention of having readers, it’s not why I started writing in the first place. Writing blog posts was my Facebook On This Day before there was even a Facebook.
When I wrote Drawings From the Top of the Seasonal Affective Disorder Rollercoaster, I portrayed October as the top of the coaster, poised over the abyss of winter. It’s more complicated than that. While I love Halloween, the track to get there is full of potholes.
Spring has arrived in North Carolina. I’m aware it’s only February. I know that we could still get some vicious cold snaps in the next month. I don’t care. Spring is here.
Rowan slept through the night last night. This is not a drill. I repeat — Rowan slept through the night last night. This is the first time in many, many months that he has slept all the way through. On those occasions, my body was so used to waking up 29384029348 times in the night that I did not sleep well, anyhow.
Y’all. I know it’s only November. I know this, but all that does is worry me more about what the next few months will be like.
I hate April Fools Day. I spend a lot of time actively avoiding looking foolish, and here is a day whose sole intention is to make me look like an idiot. No thanks. It’s not going to be pretty if someone puts a box of donuts in the workroom that actually contains carrots.
Sometimes I feel like I’m on a roller coaster without a safety bar. I spent part of this week in complete freak-out mode because Rowan is going to be a year old, but he should only be ten months old, and all of the feelings I’ve avoided so well for the last few months have been threatening to send this car plunging. I’m keeping my hands and feet inside the ride and holding on tight.