rainy days and wednesdays
"I thought the rain would never stop." I used to give that stem as a story starter to my seniors, and now I seem to be living it. On the plus side, I am home, happily tapping away at my keyboard, and not at school, breathing in chalkdust while I not so happily tap away at my keyboard. On the downside, J is out on the road, pulled over to the side at the moment, because the rain is too dense to drive in. Yuck. Happy Thanksgiving-eve.I don't know what to write here but I find myself wanting to. I want to create something hip and flip and witty, like I see on posthipchick. I want to create something meaningful, something with truth like I see on myvoice. But instead, I find myself just rambling, just searching through the fog of suburbia and plenty for something, anything that isn't obvious and banal.
It's odd that I live in a house with three other people now, and still find myself to feel distant, like there is so much --I can't find the right word--space? around me. I can't get at what I mean. It's like there's some invisible something in between us all--every now and then it disappears with J, but rarely with the kids. It's not necessarily bad, but just there. Maybe I'm just impatient. Things are more comfortable than they were. Gradually, we draw closer. I guess it just takes a lot of time to build a family.
posted by lit lover at
10:35 AM
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