I didn’t do last week’s Friday Fictioneers. I will admit, I was too caught up in other projects. Which is a shame; the prompt picture was quite lovely. But life had to take precedence.
Life has changed quite a bit in the last five months. The move was just the tip of the iceberg.
A Friday Fictioneers post, two weeks in a row? What is this madness? Could I actually be getting myself together and on a regular posting cycle again?
Stop laughing. It could -totally- happen.
Copyright Sandra Crook
Another Friday, another Friday Fictioneers.
This one is… well, it’s a bit more personal than I usually get. But hey, why not, right?
Copyright Stephen Baum
Look! I’m actually posting twice in a month! And on the right day today! Go, me.
Copyright Kent Bonham
So much has changed, just from the beginning of the year.
I haven’t forgotten about this tiny corner of the internet. I’ve been working on projects. Working on family. Life. Writing, always.
We’ve left the bustle of a major metropolis in the valley for a tiny (to me) town, half a mile away from the California coast. I’ve wanted to live here my whole life. It still feels like a dream.
I felt burned out. At the end of my line. For so long.
Now, I feel my wings coming back. Unfurling.
Like a phoenix. I shall rise.
New neighborhood
What sort of New Year’s weekend would it be if I didn’t have a Friday Fictioneers story posted (albeit a day late?)
image copyright Björn Rudberg
It’s the first day of the first month of the new year. Apparently, I’m supposed to be changing myself.
No thanks.
I have issues with myself, certainly. Who doesn’t? I’m on the wrong side of my 30s for my personal preference. There are more grey hairs showing their silvery faces each time my roots grow out. My belly is a bit more round than I would prefer. I wake up with creases in my face that aren’t from the pillows – and don’t fade away as I drink my coffee. I play too many video games and read too few books.
But.
I don’t feel that I need a whole new me just because a page on a calendar turns. Self-improvement has no set schedule other than the one you make yourself. You (general you, not you personally, kind soul reading this) know what will and what won’t work in your life.
I can say “this is the year I run a marathon!” until I’m blue in the face, but considering how much I dislike running, jogging, or moving quickly in general, this is not a thing that will happen. However, I do know that making my life a bit more fitness-inclined may not necessarily be a horrible thing, so I can adjust priorities that way. Marathon? Not so much. Trundling along with a newbie 5k program? Probably much more in the realm of reality.
And so it is with life in general. If you see a mountain you want to climb (again, figuratively – unless you really want to climb a mountain, then get down with your bad mountain-climbing self), you don’t buy your fancy shoes and start straight for the peak. You train. You practice. You conquer foothills and relish every tiny victory on the trip up the hillside. If you stumble, it’s much easier to pick yourself up after a short skid than a long fall.
2015 is just another mountain, and every day is just another inch up a hill. Some will be smooth, others will be rocky. I’m sure more than one will toss me down and kick me around a bit.
But it’s my journey. And I don’t need a new ‘me’ to do it. I’m fine with the one I have.
Better late than never; here I come with one of the last two Friday Fictioneers stories available for the year.
I’ll get my shit together in 2015. Theoretically.
image copyright Douglas MacIlroy
Somewhat regular content returning soon.
An Unperfect Life 