I realize I have lost my voice. Metaphorically, that is. I’ve been sitting here thinking it has been a really long time since I blogged, and beating myself up for that. My last post was more than a month ago, musing about my then-impending move and my sense of loss and my gratitude for the place I had the good fortune to live for the past decade. I have since then thought about my next post, something funny about the ridiculous things that happen during a move, or perhaps a vicious tirade against the hands-down winner for lousiest customer service during a move, Verizon Communications.
But I’m too exhausted, still, in the aftermath of my epic battle to procure working phone, fax, and Internet, and when the realization of the enormity of the change I’ve just made hits me. I’m too exhausted, still, by the fact that after my move, instead of the vacation I really need, I instead had to face going back into my draining job, now located claustrophobically in my dining room, six feet from the should-be sanctuary of my favorite chair perch in my living room.
I have had a lot of losses of late. I am struggling. And I am sick of—and fear those around me are sick of, too—the gloomy story I’ve been telling for the last year or so at least about my struggles. Blah blah blah blah blah.
Now that the immediate chaos of my move has settled, I’m simultaneously searching for things I know are in my apartment but damned if I know where, and realizing that living in this smaller space--or more accurately both living and working full time in this smaller space--requires me being intentional about getting out more. I won’t bore you with the things and places and people and animals I miss. I’m pretty sure that in time I’ll build a good life here. But right now, I can’t seem to sustain my wit or energy or optimism quite long enough to crank out a blog post. This might be a Web 2.0 version of the “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it” message girls get, particularly girls of my generation got. Also quite some years ago I decided to stop being a person who complained or insisted on being right and be instead a person who smiled and tilted my head towards the sun.
So after all this, I will tell you that I’ve been exploring my new community. I’ve found a new dim sum place that’s even better than my friends’ and my long-time favorite. I’ve found a friendly coffee shop that supports live music. I’ve signed up for local aquatic classes. I’ve found a drive-through Dunkin’ Donuts and good falafel take-out. I’ve got about half a dozen different ways to get to places I need to go. I’ve stopped turning in the wrong direction off the elevator to get to my apartment. I’ve had several family members and several friends come to visit my new place. And this morning I challenged my Pajama Sunday credo and corralled a friend on one of her rare weekends off to go with me to the Olney Farmers & Artisans Market opening day. I can report that the omelet burritos at the Eat a Little Something tent are delicious and totally worth waiting in line, and that I need to stay away from all the booths where sculptors and creative jewelers ply their tempting wares.
I guess that’s not so bad for six weeks in. And look at that, I’ve found my voice again.