February is nearly over. My monthly blog deadline is closing in and for the first time in weeks, I’m spending an evening at home. This is very odd. I have a dire urge to stare blankly at my office wall and let my mind spill over in silence…
But. No. No. Productivity. Must be productive. Always productive!
My route to work after the weekend’s storm.
My life is presently lovely. In all honestly, I’m struggling with words. So much has occurred since I last wrote here, so much good, so much craze, so many random and thoughtful and ridiculous moments. How can I even attempt to sum it up in a silly blog post? Not to mention a quick, breezy blog post (despite this being a “mellow evening at home” I have a frantic list of things that should be accomplished before I attempt to sleep)?
Days pass easily. I’m more content then I have ever been. I keep waiting for something to slam into me, some great traumatic event to take place and swing me off my hinge (*knocks wood*). For years I have walked into each moment repeating, “You are happy, you are happy, you are fucking happy for fuck’s sake.” But now I just am. I am happy and my restless mantra is so unnecessary.
My jaw constantly aches. Perhaps I smile too much. Is that possible?
View from my Mini Cooper on the I-10 in route to Tucson, Arizona.
My psychology course is ridiculously intriguing. I flew to Utah and saw my family. I have yet to develop a senile hatred for my flatmates. My friends still seem to love me despite seeing me as often as they do. Driving in snow and ice and death is actually not as horrific as I expected. A good friend and I took a spontaneous roadtrip (literally planned six hours in advance) to southern Arizona and I got to hug my dear Hannah. I somehow managed to grab a job at an adorable independent coffeehouse in Manitou Springs (yes, where FIY takes place, yes, I pretend I serve espresso to Vincent everyday, yes, I’m crazy) where we have live music on frequent occassions and vegan cupcakes and HEMP (and almond and soy and regular) milk. I’m still writing, still revising (FIY), still breathing as I normally do.
Blurry family in Park City, Utah.
I have never been manically alive. I have never been so productive. I have never been so excited to go to sleep at night just so I can wake up and start the new day. I always anticipated that Colorado would be a good choice of a move, that I would be happy here, but never to this extent, never to this grand of intensity.
Am I even making sense?
Naturally everything isn’t all sprinkles and chocolate ice cream (gosh I miss chocolate — it’s been SEVEN FREAKING MONTHS SINCE I CONSUMED CHOCOLATE /end rant [no I'm not sure where that stupid analogy came from, but it's staying]). There are faults and annoyances and minutes where I just want to scream at the cloudy sun. It’s reality. And it’s fragmented. But the fragments are what make the good things so blissful.
Today was good. It was good because I let it be.
And I wrote these 600 something words in the last minutes and I’m sure this entire entry is scattered and cheesy and the usual Heather bullshit. But this is me. This is what makes sense in my head, what came from my fingers and out onto my keyboard. I’m here to remain.
Anyway. This is it. The end. Until March. And I’m closing comments. Not for any real reason. Comments just don’t feel necessary, you know? Email me if you feel compelled to respond to that question.
