Hello, Friends. Two months of Texas hasn't done much good for me. I am still adjusting, and I am still trying. Trying to like being here, trying to embrace “my journey”, trying to not scream at my computer screen every time I see a picture of a Florida sunset. But let's be real-I don't really love San Antonio, I wasn't finished with my journey in Florida, and sometimes I scream. Oh, yes, I do.
I have experienced some great moments, but mostly I only have the dishes and the kid's school schedules to make me get up in the morning. Sometimes I lay in bed and just count the hours before I can get back in bed. But I'm trying. Trying to write, trying to stay excited over possibilities for my future. Trying to not eat yet another taco.
According to every Pastor and Celebrity-Pastor-Wannabe on Twitter I was meant to save the world. Really, God bless them for their optimism, and outward perfection. But for me, it's just too much pressure. Honestly, I'm just trying to get through the day without dropping the “F” bomb. It's a miracle if I do my hair, and watch out world if I shower.
I chuckle at the idea that I'm of any help to anyone these days. I can barely help myself. Someone told me the other day that my writing was so inspiring and helpful. I was flattered and smiled but totally was rolling my eyes on the inside. If only they knew the truth about me. However, my kids are still alive, and they've been fed and I think they've showered. I think. Guess that says something.
I guess this is the “in-between”, the “transition period”, the gap. I thank all of you who have tried to help me through this time, called me, then called me again, and then called me again. And are still waiting for me to call you back. Let me say this with total certainty, “It's not you, it's me!” I'm in a funk, and I'm trying to get-funky my way out.
I just don't do well with the moments in life where there are in-betweens. But life is about moving from one valley to another, moving from mountain to mountain. Climbing takes the most time. The world wants us to think that the mountaintop experience is the most important. The world lies and tells us we stay on top of that mountain a lot longer than reality allows us.
I prefer the view from the mountaintop just like any other girl. But until I find the next mountain to climb I guess I'll just spread a blanket out, probably under a tree, and take another nap. I've perfected that. Might as well do what I'm good at.
What are you “good-at” these days? I'd like to know I'm not the only one who hates hanging out in the valley.