moth

its been so long since i've written. i've missed this.

not sure why i still get the urge to do this. not sure what the craving is, what the pull means to me--why i feel the need to get all of these thoughts out of my head and onto this site. there are plenty of good people walking this earth that don't have this fierce draw inside of them, and there are times that i wish i was one of them, because when i can't do this it hurts.

i'm still in the process of trying to figure out how the hell to carve out time for myself. this writing thing has become a luxury. its never at the top of my list. i find myself wrestling with the idea that i am due anything, other than an occasional bowl of nice cream. how can i possibly dig through this muck of schedule that is mine now and pull out an extra hour or two each day?

i've been trying to wake up in the hour of five, but my children have both been sleeping so shittily that i give up on the idea of going to the gym around 2 in the morning, when i calculate my hours and realize i've been screwed out of another full night of sleep. instead, i lay there hoping to find my way back to the dream that i was having, the one where i am younger, lighter, wittier; without children, responsibilities, homework.

that's a damn fine dream these days.

when i sit down to write i find it hard to go through with this if i don't have something monumental to say about myself or my life. if i don't have a funny anecdote to write about, i feel silly indulging in this blog-thing again. and truth be told, i don't know who the hell is actually reading this, since i'm off facebook again and there's no linked-in anymore.

so thank you, if you've sought this out. it really does mean a lot that you find me here.

sometimes i want to just play around on my computer's photo booth, and try to make myself laugh. i need to be okay with just fucking around these days, knowing that i am working my ass off most of the time, and i don't need to spend every single minute focused and constructive. i can goof off. i'm allowed. i can watch the red sox implode and not feel badly about myself.

there are moments in my life now that are like snapshots--these brief snippets of rays of light that show me another way to be--a way of peacefulness and acceptance and happiness. of pride about the woman i am becoming, and the one i hope to be someday. of security in knowing that i am on the path that i am meant for, and i don't need to know anymore than that.

brief, flickering, flighty moments that knock into my skull like a moth hitting a window.

they're not soothing, but they are hopeful. and a little bit pretty.

just like me.