I always get in a funk when I come back East. This isn't home to me. It isn't where I want to be. This place isn't full of things that make me happy. In fact, I feel like every day here is a battle to survive. Just to breath, or exist is a struggle.
To say the least, I just emotionally bummed.
I had the most glorious week in Idaho. Celebrating my mom, and the fact that she survived another year. Literally, survived this year. We sat by pools in cabanas, we drank wine, we listened to free symphony concerts, we drank home brew beer, ate copious amounts of homemade bean dip, soaked in natural hot springs as the sun set. I felt like I was breathing normally again. I felt full, and content emotionally.
Then that plane ride back to DC.
With each glance out the window, watching the terrain get flatter and the air less clear with humidity, my spirits fell and sunk so low that getting out of bed this morning was a chore.
Forgive me while I suck on muck for a few days and try to rally emotionally. Hopefully, this furrbaby will pull me out of my funk.
No Comments Yet, Leave Yours!