In which it’s good to be home.

(First of all, let me just get it out of the way: I love my blue dog soooo much! K thx.)

Saying “I had such a good time at Amma!” is so silly I’m not even going to say it. I didn’t have ‘a good time,’ I was led back to myself – as I am every year when I go to see Her – and I feel several orders of magnitude better than I have in a long while. (And yes, I’ve started the Amma post but it isn’t finished yet.)

When NLW dropped me off yesterday, Truck was on the porch. He told me he was going to have a few people over later; I said that would be fine ’cause I didn’t think anything short of a full-on rave in my room was gonna keep me up past seven or eight because I’d slept from 5 to 11 that morning and was a wee bit behind on my sleep.

All sorts of groovy folk showed up, and I had a BBQed veggie burger and some lovely carbonized carrots and sweet onions, too. I played with kids a lot ’cause they were sort of right there and couldn’t be ignored.

Then I went to bed and slept for 12 hours. Yay!

This afternoon I called The Ex and he said I could swing out to the house tomorrow evening. I’m going to take some boxes out and try to organize my shit; I also want to grab some summer clothes (IT IS SO FUCKING HOT IN JULY OMGWTFBBQ) and some books and my altar and crap like that.

In other news, I may have an interview this week in Cedar Rapids, IA for a support job of some kind. I don’t even really know what the job description is yet, but if it turns out to sound way cool I’ll want your good vibes.

I quite possibly should be getting off my arse here soon, and using my life for something more profound than trying to do as much sleeping and avoidance of stress as I can. There’s a lot to be said for a nice decompression period, but part of the battle I fought in my marriage was about being trapped too far away from the things I wanted for myself. Now I’m nearing the one-year mark (I left The Ex last August) and I think I’m about to rejoin the land of the living. The booze and drugs and laziness and sleep-a-thons were great, but hardly the best use of my life. Or if I’m going to continue to live like that, I should at least do it in sexier shoes, which means I need to make some money.

I’ve been considering and shelving a variety of ideas about what I want to do now – I hadn’t moved out of Fairfield before because it seemed impossibly hard while I was recovering from depression – but now it seems like something I could actually manage. I am rather a city girl at heart, and I enjoy things like being able to eat at restaurants on Sundays, public transportation, culture, and fewer flying insects. Maybe I’ll live in Iowa City for awhile; who knows.

Today I ate leftover broccoli and potatoes from brunch and have spent much of the rest of the day in my room. Truck’s started making electric guitar noise in a different key than the song I’m listening to, though, so it might be time to turn off the iTunes and head outside for a bit.