Neoteric.
When it has been a while.
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I find it hard to write sometimes.
Most times, I guess.
I spend most days at some point along a circle: 4:30 a.m., wake up, take medicine, doze on the couch, eyes open at about ten after five, breakfast, shower, hair, dress, kiss Quinn goodbye, go to work, work, lunch, home, dinner, read, sleep, 4:30 a.m.
Wake up.
Driven, and arrived, and a part.
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At exactly 11:22 AM, I drove away. I started to drive away before that, but my dashboard gently reminded me that a door–one of the five on my car–was open. At 11:22, though, everything was packed up tight, the doors were closed, the gas tank was full, and I was driving toward the freeway.
My brother had turned my car into a life-sized jigsaw puzzle. A disassembled chair filled the holes between boxes, and my tool bag was wedged between a nightstand and a mannequin. My passenger was a vacuum cleaner-and-suitcase chimera, and my purse sat all prim and proper and Southern-belle-like on the edge of my gear shift. I had enough room for a drink and several granola bars and me. We were legos with kinetic energy.
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Post-move, pre-move.
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I have helped Quinn move. I spent almost 2 weeks with him in the great state of Oklahoma, and then I had a wonderful air travel experience back home. I am spending the next week packing up my belongings, preparing to move myself to the great state of Oklahoma.
I will write a proper blog entry when life itself becomes proper again. That’s a joke–proper? Life? Ha! I will write a proper blog entry when life becomes a little less hectic, and when I no longer live in a corrugated cardboard Hooverville.
Neoteric. 