Returning

Trying out blogging again to see if it will help me cope with all the up-coming shenanigans of a cross-country move. Since I last blogged, I’ve become more self-conscious with my writing so I don’t know if this blog will become another thing I gauge my performance on. Who knows, I feel stress settling in already, the throbbing of pain in my stomach- where I hold my stress, and also I’m noticing my lack of breathing- also mirrored by this run on sentence. On and on and on and on. I think of all the crappy things that take place in the world, and what’s a cross country move in comparison to someone fleeing for their life to another country–through streams, desserts, famine, anything and everything.

I know I’m in a position of privilege to be able to ask: what’re we to do with our condo? Our condo, which we worked on twice over, and lived in for a mere 7 months, our condo, a physical reminder of how crappy things happen–sometimes for no reason at all. our condo encapsulates all the lessons we learned from 2020 in witnessing injustice, how the maddening thing with injustice is that the victim is harmed for no good reason, other than the fact that the perpetrator is neglectful, malicious, incompetent, inadequate, or power-hungry in some way. It feels chaotic, random, unpredictable, and completely maddening.

What to do with our car, which we had been leasing, which was in the shop for a while because of a crappy tow-truck driver who didn’t follow protocol.

What to do with my job, which I found out today will be more difficult to transfer over to remote work from NY city than I thought. Residency, taxes, insurance, all of these things get confusing when one moves to another state. The thought of not having stable health insurance is not fun–especially when I hope to try having a kid again. The stress that this past year have weighed on me and I fear I won’t be able to physically have a kid.

What do with all our stuff, which is currently divided in three different places and cities. How do we get that to NYC?

NYC is our promise-land of sorts, only in the way that I cannot wait to get there and to finally breathe and not worry about balancing an ongoing number of calculations related to #adult-ish things.

I miss playing. And playing just means, wandering completely lost in the moment.

Not caring,

Not worrying,

Are great luxuries.

In times of great stress, I’ve been trying to pray more to the divine, sometimes the divine shepherd, other times the divine shepherdess.

To the divine: help me.