I'm not really in any frame of mind to be writing right now, but something tells me that I have a lot to discuss with myself.
It's early in the morning, but I've already been up for about an hour. I'm wrapped in a purple blanket, sitting on the living room couch in way that will later hurt my neck, and directly to my left a beautiful morning window is blocked by a stuffed Dragon Quest slime toy. Brad and Andy were over last night. Dan was over earlier. Salem and I have been playing SpaceTank (best game ever), and I'm currently waiting for him to wake up so we can play all day. I'm going to Mexico this week.
Let me check in how I've been feeling. I have no idea how I've been feeling. That's what happens when your kid is old enough, you actually have to schedule time to sit back and think for a while. I feel like I used to be in a constant state of self-thought, but to me it feels rare and selfish to even check in on myself.
I'm writing this like I'm having a hard time, but I'm actually quite peaceful today. I'm just a little lost again, and 'lost' has basically been the theme of these two blogs I started some 16 years ago. But, writing makes me appreciate being lost, and part of me feels like a platform like this is what I need to escape the dredge of social media. I'm tired of it. I feel like it is holding me captive and stealing my attention from any actual inspiration.
What was I talking about? I'm at a wild crossroads, and I've only told a few people. I have a certain amazing opportunity cooking (two of them, now that I think about it) that would allow my family to travel together, even internationally, but I would be lying if I said I didn't have my doubts about it. Those doubts aren't the typical fears for safety and money or whatever, but rather doubts that my son would actually be gaining anything from it that is worth being away from home for so long.
I feel like 29 year-old Chris would have never once looked away from an opportunity or blessing like this, but that guy had never experience loss like I did last year. That is certainly a variable, and I don't talk enough about how much that affected my desire to grow anymore. It messed me up a bit to watch my dad go.
I think I used up all of my writing time for now. More on this later. I feels good to write again.
