Home Alone

Remember that time I didn’t post anything for three weeks?

Yeah, um.  Sorry about that.

Whatever’s been going on with me is more than writer’s block. I mean, I have so, so many words.  Words coming out of my EARS.  I have stories and anecdotes and important topics. And yet when I think about sitting down to write them out, I magically find 10 other things to do that are way more important.  Like paint my nails.  Or read my book.

What gives?

I have no idea.  I do know, though, that if I try to re-enter with some genius post I’m going to overwhelm myself right back into the dark abyss where there is no writing, only anxiety about not writing.

So I’m lowering the expectations.  I’m not trying for pretty or polished or even smart; I’m going for stream of consciousness.

I was home alone for a couple of days this weekend.  Home, as in within the walls of my house.  Alone, as in my husband took the kids to the beach and I was completely all by myself.

It was awesome.

I don’t mean to scare any parents-to-be who may be reading this (Chuck, look away) but this past weekend was the longest I’ve been alone since I became a parent almost six years ago.

I got an impressive amount of little house projects done in order to earn my keep. I completed organized and cleaned the attic…

 

This would be exponentially more impressive if you'd seen the before picture OR if I could impress upon you just how hot it was up there.

 

I did gobs of laundry…

 

Nothing goes better with folding laundry than bad 80's movies.

 

I even worked on a special project for Peanut!  More on that later.
I took care of me, too.  I saw friends, got a 90 minute massage (swoon), and got my hair did…

Totally awkward self portrait

I also rediscovered the lost art of meandering over the weekend.  I picked and poked my way through a Farmer’s Market.  I lollygagged through Pier One.  I perused the aisles of Costco.  It was luxurious.

Things I did not do this weekend:

–  feel badly about watching too much tv or staying in my pajamas until noon

– get awakened (is that a word?) by little hands, knees, or elbows in my face

–  try to get every little house project off the list

– fill my time with other people.  I let myself be alone.  A lot.

– stay up until 2 in the morning.  I was actually in bed by 11ish each night.  And it was wonderful.  WONDERFUL!
This weekend I slowed down a little and it was a precious reminder that I can live my life more slowly, more intentionally, if I just make that choice.

And as if by magic, once I slowed down just enough – I found the time and space and motivation to sit down and bang out my first post in almost a month.

 

I’m back, baby.

 

 

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