We moved. I have been living out of first a suitcase and then boxes for almost six months. To say the least, I am feeling disoriented.
My life is buried somewhere in those boxes. It is not so much that the objects in the boxes are important to my identity. It is more that I am waiting for the objects of the past to show up in the present so that I can get on with my life. I have to either wait for or replace the objects. I cannot afford to replace the objects, so I must wait for them.
I have been working long hours. When I am not working I am unpacking and organizing. The day-to-day activities such as bill paying, cooking, eating, bathing etc. are all-the-more time consuming because the support systems Attila and I need to accomplish them are in a state of chaos. We carry on, as best we can. The comfort of familiarity is a distant memory.
Of course, there is a silver lining. I love my work. We love where we live. These are not small things.
There is little time to write, and yet write I must if I am to enter into my own life once more.
So, here I am.
|RECIPES :: Cast
Chaos in a Box
By the Easy Chair
Always Coming Home
by Ursula Le Guin
(It is not a coincidence that I am rereading this book at this time!)
On the Screen
(I catch the odd episode, since I am usually working or trying to grab something to eat before I fall asleep in the evenings.)
A few clouds
WINd NW 13 km/h
REL HUMIDITY 68%
PRESS 101.84 kPa
VISIBILITY 24 km
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