that james' last tweet was about me.
and it's funny.
that even if crappy things are happening to me, i can look out my window when i'm driving and smile.
because i love it here.
that i have managed (with a small bit of help along the way)...but mostly by myself....to have a house built for us.
that i can handle the shit that happens.
so far anyway.
and by the shit that happens i mean getting hit by a 110 year old woman.
it felt odd, i gotta say though....not calling james.
that is still my first instinct.
he made everything better.
he wouldn't have given a crap about the car, only that i was okay.
that the decisions i have made about the house (in a completely disjointed fashion)....because certain decisions had to be made at certain times....when i didn't have necessarily all the info i needed to be making a decision.....have all turned out well. things actually go together. not sure how it happened but it did.
that i am beginning to feel the desire to paint.
and art journal.
and even scrap again.
i am hoping, once we are moved, and i actually have a studio that i really WILL do these things.
that i won't feel the pressure.
that it will just flow.
because i know i don't have to be perfect....that art is what it is.
it just happens for me.
i want to play.
the more you do something the more you grow.
i need to immerse myself.
to lose myself.
called my first therapist in astoria today.
beginning the process.
so i don't go insane.
because sometimes it feels like that is happening.
especially with going through things again.
making sure i'm on top of all the house stuff.
that things ARE getting done.
because i want in my house.
and out of the rental.
with the scary basement.
i WANT to be settled.
to finally know what it will feel like to be here, in our own house.