Vacation's vacation

I'm back from my weekend's vacation from this grueling existence that is being a housewife. I'm sure the North Is Down blog will have mega updates very soon chronicling our adventures in the south island. Francisco took a thousand pictures. It was really gorgeous. I almost know how to snowboard now. I'll let that vacation-y blog handle the rest of the details. It was definitely hard for me towards the end, being cooped up with everyone, but I blame that on hormones and lack of confidence in this relationship thing. Every doubt magnified in horrific detail.

I'm borrowing this book from Christopher, How to be Idle. It's really pleasurable, especially since by reading it in my bed I am embodying what it stands for. In fact, it makes me feel shitloads better about everything else. Kris and I are buying new stuff for the new house all day today. Organizing, shopping, hot water, a book that takes away all the guilt of enjoying naps and couches and walking without a plan, a ridiculous ocean view out of my living room window, duck salad and coconut rice leftovers in the fridge. Just enough muscle ache left from the snowboarding to really luxuriate and de-stress, enjoy an excessive shower, lie in front of the space heater staring at the ceiling. I'm really digging how cold it is because it makes me just that much more snuggly. Really it's like the universe is trying very hard to fix me. There's no need to worry, the sky tells me. Have a good cry and drink some loose tea. No one else is home to see or bother you. Finish this book. Do what you like. There's sand in our front mailbox, isn't that funny? I heard the ocean as I fell asleep last night. The air was chilly and I rubbed my icy nose on Francisco's back, hoping, hoping.

I don't think I understand the people around me as well as I used to. That's not a good enough reason to feel sorry for myself though. I resolve to not feel sorry for myself anymore unless something truly awful happens. Let's save the wallowing for the deaths and divorces, and even then, sip it slowly, contents may be hotter than they appear.

This entry made possible with help from Kris Ardent.