I’m back. I was just here, reading.
I recently devoured Happier at Home by Gretchen Rubin, Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, Perks of Being a Wallflower (in one sitting) by Stephen Chbosky, and I’m sure dozens of other books that I cannot recall at the moment.
I have been writing, for work. I have been dreaming. I have been planning. I didn’t realize it’s been three months since my last post.
I must not slack off that long anymore. I promise to blog more often. (A promise I tend not to keep, unfortunately.)
There are worlds within me. Words. Innumerable ideas and stories and fantasies. I know I am meant to write them.
I will just finish this Christmas season. There is much shopping, wrapping, and partying to be done. My family is having its much-awaited reunion by yearend for two weeks. Then I’m going to Disneyland with my niece! Exciting times lie ahead.
Change is in the air. But I want to do old things, too. I need to meet the Jane Austen Book Club again, and to hold another garage sale.
It has been my experience in life that time and money are inversely proportional. What joy it would be if I were to have them both at the same time. Like love and career. Ice cream and cake. Bacon and cheese. Coffee and tea.
It is time to be myself again.