Thanksgiving

My eyes have filled with tears many times in the past couple of weeks. The conference, good friends, tragedy and terrible evil in Paris and Mali, frequent travel...I feel like there's an emotional ledge I'm grasping, and I don't want to release it.

But I get to go home, and see J&J, and for that, all for that, I am thrilled. I get to see my nephews and family, and even if the J&Jers are less than thrilled to see their lame old aunt, I get to see them and spend some time hanging out with them. It's the joy of my life, really.

So for a bit, I'll be relaxed and live in the moment. I'll get off this treadmill, and I'll breathe in the cool and crisp air in Michigan. Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.

Two Months

I have no real reason to avoid writing. I mean, life has not slowed down, but it's been this way before, and I tune in. I think I'm avoiding writing because I don't know about this stage. It's an uneasiness, a sense that I am not where I desire to be, and I want to avoid having these feelings of drowning.

Whether it is a new nephew or travel or my brother running a marathon or my husband jetting off to Singapore. I feel like I am just standing still, in this place, before another convention, this place that is static and rigid and unyielding. It's a chasm and I'm sinking.

In the stillness, I am aware of my thoughts and how very unhappy I am. I try to cover with drinking, socializing, reading, drama, but it always remains the same.

I want to picture myself in 12 months, with a baby and a Republican president and possibilities for change. But I see myself at 40, sitting here, and still facing uncertainty about a night ahead. And I really hate this. And I don't know how to pull myself up.