No, I am. . .I'm here.
For a long time I was blogging thrice a week,*
*Yes, I realize that using the word 'thrice' makes me sound like a giant bag of douche, but I intend to get as much mileage out of my Liberal Arts degree as possible. After all, it took me five and a half years of my life to get it. . .don't judge.
Then, not so thrice-y. Then I was blogging with as much frequency as an AM radio in Ketchikan, Alaska. Which is to say: not so much.
A lot has been going on. And by "a lot", I mean "shit got real".
I am still married; Norm is rad as hell and without a doubt the best friend I've ever had in my whole life. The (not so) short people are growing and thriving. Life
is was is perfect.
And then, it wasn't.
It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment when things fell apart; and even harder to figure out why. Suffice to say, after twenty years of racing frantically on a mental and emotional treadmill and repressing some pretty epic LifeTime-Movie-Of-The-Week-PTSD-Inducing angst I just. . .snapped.
And now. . .I'm here.
Over the next few weeks, I'll be revealing more of the story; as I slowly begin to heal and as I gain some clarity. Because, seriously? Right now things in my head are still a steaming bouillabaisse of crazy.
So. . .I guess. . .I guess I'm just swinging by to say "hi". To let you know that I've missed you. . .*
*I know we haven't met, but I still miss you. Is that weird? That sounded weird, didn't it? Did this just get creepy?
. . .to let you know that (in the immortal words of the great poet, Richard Pryor), "I ain't dead yet". And to say, Merry Christmas.
Be well. Love each other. And please, don't take yourselves too damned seriously.
Life is to short, and you're too pretty for that.