And off for a few days to be with family and eat.
And probably eat.
I am half Italian and half Portuguese. So we eat a lot.
It’s what we do best.
I am typing away (to you) at my tiny bistro table (I really should buy myself a decent desk) and I am eating chocolate covered almonds while sipping some brandy.
I’m letting the work month dissolve away.
Oy! It was a dramatic one. Unnecessarily so.
Some people are their own worst enemies, you know?
And now some people are out of a job right before Christmas.
Not me. Them. But it wasn’t fun to take care of. I felt shitty.
Shitty until more crazy drama ensued. Then I felt decisive.
I’m learning that managing people is 89% dealing with their emotions, 1% having to do these ‘not so fun’ things and 10% (or 11% for good measure and because I love the number) developing an ulcer and a sleeping disorder.
But when I can’t sleep, I write.
That’s a major development.
I’m not writing a novel or anything, but I'm writing. Period.
That feels good.
The TV has not been turned on in a week. I’m happy about that.
I have even picked up the guitar a few times. Rusty. Sooooo rusty.
Things are changing.
I can’t explain how, but I feel so much closer to the girl I intend to be.