absence

No one reads this blog anymore . . .and I'm okay with that. My last post was almost one year ago. I am not apologizing. My life has been blissfully busy with my satisfying career, my husband who challenges and dotes on my all at once, and my sons. Q and QT are growing up so fast and I have just been trying to soak it all in.

But something has always been missing.

I fancy myself a writer. I like to put my thoughts down on paper, er, screen. I have kept journals since I was 10 and until recently, most of my life has been documented by some sort of reflection by me. Recently, you know, when my life got really good? So much of what I used to write about was about my fears, anxiety, and depression. I just don't feel that anymore so it came to feel like, "what do I write about now?" So I stopped.

But it feels blank. Like parts of my life are missing all because I didn't jot down my quick notes.

I have a lot to say. I am one of the most opinionated people I know. I need to say some things so that I cant stop annoying those around me with my feigned sense of authority about nonsense. So, I am reclaiming this blog as my sounding board. Maybe I won't get around to saying something again for a few more months but I am hoping to come back regularly. The fact that I think no one is actually reading makes this even more liberating.

And that's a strange feeling, right? I want this to be public but I want some anonymity too? I can't explain it.

Well, that's all I have to say for now.