What it feels like to be writing again

Escaping the August heat by inching my way into the cold waters of the Quarry to float on an inner tube. Connecting with new and old friends in the water. Knowing I might get sunburned but not wanting to leave to reapply. Talking in British accents for no reason.

The strawberry sencha is finally back in stock at the Montavilla Townshend’s (oh btw I I moved back to Portland).

Moving back to Portland.

Planning my dream bedroom, perfectly furnished and color-coordinated room, but also knowing how long it’s going to take me to actually create it, investing in one piece of real grownup furniture at a time. Thinking it can’t be that hard to spray paint a mirror frame gold. Hoping my cat won’t claw up the purple bed canopy.

Go-kart racing where I’m not trying to win, I’m just not trying to crash into the bumpers and wondering how bad it is that I keep hitting the bumpers but having too much fun to really care.

Being surprised at how I do actually feel a little bit better when I make the bed.

Carrying around my little green-and-gold notebook from a dear friend, ready to capture magical thoughts that float by.

Confronting my fear of cooking without a recipe, just trusting my instincts, tastes, and culinary school training from a lifetime ago.

Making myself do my physical therapy, even when I have a severe case of the Don’t Wannas, because I love myself enough to invest in my future health. Still listening to my You Got This playlist even after PT is over.

Finding a box of treasures I’d forgotten about or never knew existed.

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