I’ve been feeling out of sorts for a few weeks now. In a way, it’s just now sinking in where I am, and that I am nowhere near where I thought I would be. Certainly not about to turn 25, here. Not a single mom. Not spending all day at work, away from my son. Not, not… not.
I took a few weeks away from blogging, aside from Elliott’s eleven month old post (which will one day end up in his baby book), because I did not know what to say. I am at an impasse… Doing the best I can with what I have, but that does not always feel like enough. Not by my standards at least.
So I’m here, kinda. I think of small, somewhat trivial things I could write about, but rarely find the time to do so between work and the little man turning into fang face all of a sudden. I’ll try harder, because writing helps me decompress and sort out all the blurry little details of life moving at warp speed and simultaneously crawling by..
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. – Samuel Beckett