Sunny Sun and the Funky Bunch

I've been standing too close to fluorescent lights lately, hoping to get some vitamin D (and frankly, a little warmth, which is a flawed principle) to break me outta my funk.

I've been struggling since just before Christmas, if I'm going to be honest here, and I'm not entirely sure why.

I've decided that it might come down to any or all or more than the following list:  

a) Just like when you put on your fancy clothes and get your hair and make-up finished waaaaaaaay too early in the day and you spend the rest of it wondering when you're going to spill red wine on yourself, I perhaps was decorated for Christmas a few weeks months early.  There is a letdown of spirit when the glitter-iffic decorations and tree are up long enough that they require dusting.  

a.1) I decorated early so as to get me out of my Fall funk, so yes... there's that.

b) My commute is (wah wah wah) making me a little cuckoo. I'm a person who perseverates on minutiae anyway, I don't need a bonus 2-hour boring-assed drive to ensure I contemplate my day and conversations. I've turned into some mutant clam that takes grains of sand and turns them not into pearls, but into mutated, glowing Scooby-doo style horrors. 

"Did he give me a wincing look when he said OK? Or did imagine it? I think it's real. I need to apologize tomorrow or everything will be ruined, ruined, ruined!"  

c) There has been a crazy lull in new music (which is thankfully coming to a close). I need new music to rock out to, or see b. 

It probably doesn't help that I haven't been able to run in months because of the commute, and now because it's Minus Eleveneeth Thousand degrees here. 

See, but the more I write about all the reasons I should be MEH, the more I keep thinking "Like, your life is NOT that bad, baby."

Anyway, the bottom line is, whether it's because we moved a lot while I was growing up, or because of a reason inside my psyche, I am back DYING to sell all our shit and move to Africa to build wells for orphans.

If you want to remind yourself what that looks like, my original post from a few years ago is found in July 2011 and it's called "Now I Ain't Sayin' She's a Well-digger" so click through below, k? 

I've been painting up a storm (well, a heavy rain anyway) so as to process some of these things I'm feeling but can't articulate. You might have noticed a lack of writing here on ye olde bloggy blog and, well, that's why. I'm having trouble getting the words out right to figure out what I'm feeling.

Judge all  you want-- for someone who seems to communicate as easily as I do (in either official language, which almost makes it worse) I am having trouble processing and separating the different things I'm feeling. It's really hard to find things hilarious when you can't figure out why you're feeling sad, non?

So, the writing has been slow and forced. And not my usual self.  And that's ok, I know. Sometimes you have to trudge through the snow to get to the ice rink.  I guess I'm posting this not for any reason but to hopefully unstick my brain.  I've been trying to avoid talking about The Junk here, but the more I resist it, the more it persists, so here goes. I've got some Junk I'm trying to sort through and until I embrace it and let it flow through me, I won't be able to move forward.

Onward and upward.


Or at least forward.
At least.