Imagine that I'm doing fine

I'm not up to blogging lately. Life is going on, but when it's not, I just want to hide in my shell and process the changes I've been going through.

A friend once compared conversation to playing catch. It seems that right now, more than usual, I might get the occasional urge to toss the ball, but even if I have the thrill of catching it, I'm not likely to want to toss it again.

Please don't take it personally.

I'm thinking in numbers. A radio station or time of day might now be considered "bad" if the number is too high. I won't even tell you the absurd mind game I play with the dehumidifier.

I'm logging everything I eat. I'm close to knowing just how many grams of pizza I can eat, and what else is best to have with it.

I'm exercising a little more, and looking forward to spring's invitation to drop everything and head outside.

But when I get out there, I'll wish we lived further out of town. Because while some of this is a phase, a lot of it is just me. It's been me since I was a kid living in the boonies. When my brother and I saw a car coming down our dirt road, we'd hide. I don't know about him, but I felt panic and terror at the thought of not sitting in the grass or ducking behind a tree fast enough, and possibly being seen. No reason, just 'cuz. And in some part of my mind, that still makes perfect sense.

But really, I'm fine.