False alarm.

This is only a test. A test to be sure the “publish post” button still works.

There are three entries swimming around in my head, begging to be written. But the time isn’t there. It takes hours to coax the words out of my head, finesse each sentence into something I’m comfortable publishing. A perfectionist’s work is never done.

I have been writing, a little.
I did a guest post for SpinSucks.com, a PR blog for the company Arment Dietrich, and I recently finished another piece for DishKebab.com, a food blog for the Rewards Network.
It’s not the same, obviously.

But life takes precedence.
Oh, if writing truly could become my life.
…Some day. Maybe.

I love to move along at a clip, yes, but the running headless chicken routine has never been a good look for me. That’s where I’ve been these past few weeks.
I’m mostly moved into the new place, though it doesn’t feel like home. It will, but it doesn’t yet. It still smells like new floors and industrial cleaning supplies, despite hot and heavy scented-candle warfare and a one-night cookie-baking détente. Time, it would seem, is the only cure.

As it is for most things.

The guaranteed passage of this slow healer, time, keeps me sane in the chaos I’ve created for myself. A packed schedule is a cushion of sorts.
Dinner reservations, doctor’s appointments, bike rides from my front gate to the signpost where I lock it up outside the train station and back again.
Though too many cushions in a room can start to make it look like a cell in a mental institution…
Twenty-four hours after the moving truck pulled away from my new building, I started packing for my trip to central Florida, where I spent the better part of last week for work. I returned home to a lusciously long — possibly even languorous — holiday weekend. On Sunday, I turn around and leave again, this time for Columbus.
The light at the end of this tunnel, I keep telling myself, is a four-day weekend in New York City. It will be the first time I’ve visited in more than two years, and I’ll be there during Restaurant Week. I’ll hit the ground running and stop only to eat. Seeing old friends, spending ungodly amounts of money on food, walking the length of Manhattan. Flea-marketing in Brooklyn, a new coin purse at the Pearl River Mart, dishes at Fish’s Eddy, window-drooling at ABC Carpet & Home.

A girl can hope for a clear enough head to start letting these entries out soon, one by one, but I’m not holding my breath.
Time marches on.



6 Responses to “False alarm.”

  1. MFB Says:

    if you're in nyc for 7/17, give a shout! i'll be celebrating my 26th 🙂

  2. Mr. Apron Says:

    Let life, and blogging, come as it may. For now, enjoy that new coin purse, and the wishes therein.

  3. Gini Dietrich Says:

    Uh…don't you write for a living?! I'm quite pleased with the guest post you did for Spin Sucks. You'll be back for more!

  4. Laura Scholz Says:

    So glad I found you via Gini. I love your writing–super crisp and honest. I just took a four day break from the headless chicken routine…New York City will be here before you know it!

  5. randomshelly Says:

    You were in Central Florida?? That is so weird – I live just south of Tampa – where were you!And your trip to NYC sounds awesome! I'm sure you will have fun 🙂

  6. Christine Says:

    Um, your NY plans resemble essentially EXACTLY what I did when I was recently there (literally; I did the requisite ABC + Fish's Eddy stop, followed by Cooper-Hewitt, of course…and there was even a Brooklyn market involved, which I managed to blog about, amazingly). Have a wonderful trip!

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