Today is just one of those days that I wish I hadn't made the "responsible" choice to forego our trip to visit you in the name of "not living on the street" or some foolish thing to that end.
My experience always has been that it is therapeutic, when you move far away, to visit your old home within a year of leaving. Wait longer and people start forgetting who you are, but don't go at all and it is just a wee bit hard on your system.
And yes, I may have been perusing my old journal just a little today.
Shouldn't do that. Actually it's ironic because my motivation for perusing was to find one of those "newly moved, still no meaningful relationships, feeling isolated" entries to boost me from my knowledge of how I felt about my life within just a year of feeling that way. Unfortunately this particular book didn't go quite far enough back! So instead of encouragement I am left with wistfulness. Silly book.
Isn't it appropriate that this is one of the maybe two photos of us together? You're blurry and I'm completely blocked by a baby!
Don't worry or anything though, I have come up with a blues-combatting plan: I will make bread today--first time in weeks, and I cannot tell you how sick I am of store bought bread. Should be good.
Love,
Jacqui
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