The last few weeks have been strange, a mix of post-wedding letdown followed by travel anxiety, honeymoon bliss, travel anxiety, and now post-honeymoon and post-wedding and pre-move and pre-semester malaise.
My summer: blessed and beautiful. My heart: grateful and full.
And yet, with a creative, year-long project already relegated to memories and photographs…with hellos and goodbyes to far-flung family and friends already uttered…with small extravagances settled into everyday realities…it’s difficult not to feel that bittersweetness of completion. That flailing around in search of the next creative endeavor, the re-adjusting to internet connections between family and friends, and the planning of monthly treats of meals out complete with apps, wine, AND dessert rather than a week of indulgences.
Mostly, I miss the people. The time out of daily life to connect with my husband in a world without TV and internet and anyone else we know. The many weeks of chatter and work with my Mom. The hours with dear friends and family working together to frost cupcakes and assemble flowers and set up furniture and celebrate.
It’s a little lonely here.
But I always have friends between the pages, and so I’ve read several books, across genres, in quick succession, staving off the loneliness with edgy chefs, plotting spouses, sensitive girls, racist townies, Shakespearean profs.
It’s a delicious drug, reading.
It’s home.
Protagonista: Writing a Professional Life 