Climbing Out of the Grave

And I’m back. Did you think I’d fallen off the face of the  earth?

Don’t worry, so did I.

If it makes you feel any better, I’m currently wearing things to work that I am ashamed to admit I still own. That’s because everything else I own is dirty.

There are mounds of undone dishes. I have to wash a fork if I want to use one for supper.

I haven’t even cleaned the bathroom counter in a week, and if there’s anything I loathe, it’s a dirty bathroom counter.

Somewhere in my admissions paperwork, there must have been a clause about signing my life away, because I got slammed with double fifteen page papers, one hard and the other a harrowing nightmare.

But, now they’re over.

The world is so, so beautiful. Even the snow is pretty.

And best of all, my words get to be my own again – not given to professors, not swapped for a letter grade, not exchanged for a step down the path to a higher level in my career.

Mine. All mine. Like a three year old hoarding chocolate chip cookies.

I love chocolate chip cookies.

Anyways, ridiculous childhood metaphors aside, it’s good to be back. I missed posting. I missed writing. I missed all that stuff.

I don’t believe that you have to create every single day, but I believe that when you’re a creator who cannot create for whatever reason, that desire sings in your veins with strength that’ll kill you if you don’t let it free eventually.

I’ve also had time – in between bouts of staring at my ceiling, bicycling out my aggression, and trying to keep my face from landing on the keyboard in exhaustion – to think up many questions and thoughts for you all to ponder and give me your opinions on.  Be excited! I’m finally free!


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