Like Sands Through an Hourglass

Yikes, dearest 19 readers, where did my autumn go? It seems that every year, I find myself trudging to work in an outer-layer not quite warm enough for the weather, bracing myself against the damp November grey, and noting that the absence of leaves on trees signals the definitive end of autumn's glory. This year, such a realization came today. Along of course, with one that I have not blogged on a regular basis in several months.

What have I been up to?

I feel like I've been on the receiving end of that question a lot recently and I can't come up with a good answer. To be honest, I can barely account for my time recently, and it has little to do with suffering from over-extension or the like. Maybe I've just been a little disconnected, floating, not really interested in examining the situation. And really, who can blame me? Much of 2009 was a bit traumatic. I began the year reeling from a traumatic breakup, rebounded with a couple of slightly bumpy flash-in-the-pan romances, then vaguely divorced myself of most romantic notions for several months. Dedicated readers will get how uncharacteristic that is for me, how I almost always have a crush of some kind, how intent I often seem on finding some guy to mess me up and make me miserable.

Beginning in August, I briefly dated a man who, while funny, smart and terrific in many ways, was not ready for a relationship. For my part, I didn't trust my real interest in him. Now we're friends, and things feel good. Solid-like, and in typical me fashion, I wonder what intentions and destinies lurk beneath the surface of this seemingly platonic relationship. I vacillate daily between relief that the dating nonsense is over with, and wanting him back because I can't help but wonder if this is it. I never before wanted anyone back, because as my friend A (who has known me for like, 16 years) pointed out, I don't really do breakups, per say. I do violent, irreversible exploding aparts filled with tears and insults and slut spirals and people moving to opposite ends of the country. Rare is it that I experience a level-headed lets-still-be-close conversation punctuated with laughter and sincere making of plans to drink beer at local favorite water holes (ones that are realized, to boot!). Maybe I am actually maturing, or maybe there's something else at play. For now, I am content to simply wonder.

2009 was also the year of the boss from hell, who thankfully has mellowed out, but the drama over that and various other weirdnesses at work has left me drained and disengaged. I am thankful for the steady paycheck, but pretty much over it. Of course, I remain as ambivalent as ever about my career path and continue to think that what I need is somebody to just grab me by the shoulders and shake me until a better idea comes to mind. I simply have no idea what I want to be when I grow up, and the older I get, the less certain I become.

Another reoccurring theme of '09 has been hermitude--slowing down, withdrawing from social activities. Given the hecticness of my former life as a social butterfly/dedicated bar fly, this makes sense. Yet this fall's flurry of parties and whatnot revealed the need for a balance that I will have to push myself to attain. The fact is, I am something of a loner at heart, and while I relish times spent with friends, reaching out to other people is not my primary nature. I think I feel a resolution of sorts forming.

Also resolved, is to dedicate more creative and intellectual energies to writing projects, whether they be this silly blog, a different silly blog, short stories, or *gasp* a novel. True to my general nature, I have a hard time organizing my thoughts and experiences into a coherent narrative. And that dearies, is basically it. I'm also working out a lot, taking an art class, and rededicating myself to Pilates, but since this entry is beginning to resemble one of those, "what I ate for lunch" missives, I shall refrain from further exposition on those topics. In short, things are fine and I will try to write more regularly, if only for the practice. Or so should Judith Regan wonder what the lyrics to the song Hey Pretty contain and stumble across this site to offer me a book deal. Because shouldn't something come easy for once? Wait, don't answer that one.

Comments

[Anonymous]

You were meant to write! Don't you know that by now? Get on with it....

[HP]

Aw, Anon. How I adore the impatient yet well-intended tone of that comment. And yes, I do know that by now. But write about what, I ask you?