So this was my second winter back in Texas.
I was going through some of my old notebooks and throwing things away and then I found this.
My life continues to change so much and I’m so glad that I chose this path and this story, not the story that anyone else wanted to write for me.
I feel strange and happy and peaceful, like I live in a nice little bubble, insulated from the world.
I feel pretty well-rested, which hasn’t been the case in weeks and weeks. And very homesick in a Grumpy Cat kind of way. So I sip coffee and dictate phone calls and look at the snow falling and wonder why it is that I’m in Colorado Springs and not in Beaumont. Which sounds ridiculous.
And I have a lot of writing to do. I have an itch to either sleep or get it all done so that I can go back home. It’s silly. My skin is dry and flaky and my head hurts from altitude and I need to drink more water.
I wonder why the altitude seems to affect me more than my family. But I’m relaxed and cozy at sea level.