Ahhhhhhhhhhh... sighs of relief... the computer is back up and running. I can sit down and write again. For over two months I had to use notebooks and scraps of paper for journaling and put aside all business, including blogging and my stores on Etsy.
Now, in the aftermath of an insane flurry of apartment hunting, organizing, packing and moving, I sit here and guiltily "take the time" - a break, a small respite - to write to you.
All around me is a daunting chaos of packed and partially unpacked moving boxes. Things that made it out of boxes are all over the floor in frustratingly disorganized piles. Unrelated items line up temporarily on shelves, homeless, waiting to be assigned their permanent places.
Ugh... I am weary and don't want to do another thing, yet I feel compelled to keep moving. Without benefit of a task master cracking a whip over me or a deadline of any sort that will be respected by the me who has had it with being pushed around by life the work is incredibly slow going. Somehow, somewhere in me, I have to find the desire and the will to keep working and do what is necessary to make this new place my home. What make it harder is the resentment I feel toward this new space. The move was the second in less than a year - again on short notice and again a forced move - again because of mold as well as other chemical contamination seeping into my home making me quite ill.
This new place is smaller, a two room "efficiency" with a
very narrow galley "kitchen" and a bathroom you can barely turn around in. It is the middle unit in a one story tri-plex. (A tri-plex here is a single story building divided into 3 apartments.)
My plan was to continue looking for an ideal place to move to in 6 months - something I can't even bear think at this point much less resume doing.
Half my clothes and furnishings as well the studio are stored in a rental storage building some distance away and many others - including my huge ferns and hibiscus tree had to be left behind.
The non poop side of the stick is that though the accommodations aren't "ideal" it is a "roof" over my head a place to sleep, eat, shower, and to gather my thoughts. It is not an unpleasant place. It is quiet, surrounded by trees and well landscaped and well cared for lawns and yards filled with lovely plants. This is a much nicer neighborhood than I was in before. I am safe and not being poisoned by the air I am breathing anymore... For all this I am grateful... so what is there to resent or not be happy about ---
Ah, there's the rub... and the answer is personal and private... and will not be spoken out loud. Not having 24/7 access to my supplies and tools is just part of it, as is sorely missing having my my studio here. There has been an ongoing inner conversation - a sad discussion, sometimes heated, sometimes an all out brawl, between me, myself and I. Hopefully it will all quite down soon. I am weary of it; all the inner whining, crying and arguing, the if onlys, what ifs and what abouts and so on and so on and so on - seemingly ad infinitum, but I must listen to every bit of it and work with all parts to find a happy medium; and now that I have some time to think and am feeling a bit better I will do that.
However, at this moment, I need break. I'm off to the library to "return a book that is due today". (A nice excuse to get away from all the blather and chaos for a bit.
"But here's soooo much to do yet... " some part of calls after me trying to guilt me into doing more sorting and unpacking as I grab the tome to be returned and the new keys and head for the door...
Shut up! Be quiet! Leave me alone! You're driving me nuts! I'll be back soon!
I breathe in and I breathe out.... as I quietly lock the door behind me... fresh air ahhhhhh....
and so it goes..... ah well....
this is where I am just now.
