To thee, oh 124, do I give thanks and praise. Thank you for checking my idle blog. Thank you for hoping, against all odds, that one day? there would be something posted here.

Even though I’m pretty sure that at least 20 of you were spammers or spambots or whatever the kids are using to conquer the internet these days.

So. How’s life? I have missed you. I have missed blogging. I gave up facebook games for lent and decided to start journaling on paper instead, which kind of sapped my write-power. I am happy to report that I am still off the juice, a.k.a. Bejeweled Blitz. Don’t even go there.

Spring is springing all over the place here in New York (not the city), and I see electric green fluffs on the hillsides now during my morning commute, as well as rushing streams and swollen rivers and all of those other springy-type things.

I don’t know about you, but I hate winter. After Christmas, I pretty much can’t see the point in going on. Winter, that is. Winter going on. February and March are the bane of my entire year. They hurt me. They burn me with cold and scare me with ice and weather warnings. They glue me to my computer, checking forecasts, rendering me incapable of deciding whether it’s worth risking my life to drive to work that day (or will the snow miss us again??).

So, basically, I just wanted to pop by to say, giddyap, or giddeup, um, maybe giddy-up? Know what I mean? I’m trying to convey that I am back on that durn horse again.

That so didn’t work out the way I planned.

See you soon.

Wow. It’s been quite a winter for me here. I am finally starting to reach the proper edge of sanity here with the weather creeping up into the 40s on multiple days per week.

That other edge of sanity was… well, the wrong edge to be on.

Yesterday, I took a day off from work just to give myself some time to breathe. Last week I covered for a coworker all week, and this week had been One of Those Weeks, so I decided to take a day for no reason.

I ate a bagel for breakfast and took some donations to the Salvation Army. Then? I shopped. I used to love shopping when I was younger and had no business shopping. That’s how I developed credit card debt. But shopping yesterday was a different kind of experience. Every store I entered, it was like I had a laser focus to ignore what I didn’t want. I felt no pressure to purchase anything at all. And when I did want something (like a vintage-looking Coke magnet and a candle) I didn’t beat myself up over it. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, pictured the items in my home, and moved forward.

The last stop of my day was a fairly new furniture store in the town where I grew up. The location of the store was a guns-n-ammo store and a swap shop for much of my young life. Recently, it was a Curves fitness center. Now, it’s an adorable second-hand furniture store with clean and cool items.

I dipped a toe in the water and bought a magazine rack. It was low and sturdy, mission style, and just the right color. Today I went back and bought a bookshelf and a full-length mirror.

The feeling of relief I have from buying furniture is immense. I have lived for so many years without bookshelves, without dressers and full-length mirrors. I spent much of my 20s feeling unsettled and on edge. Now, I realize what my problem was. I couldn’t root. I had no place to call my own. I was living in the homes of others, trying my best not to be an imposition. My own style had no place to thrive.

I have always loved putting rooms together. I often lament that I didn’t become someone who does this for a living, someone who designs spaces for living and working and decorates them. I often think of places in terms of what should be moved where (and which walls should come down if at all possible).

So, this is an old part of myself long forgotten. I had to give up much of my furniture in 2001, and much of my decor lived in storage until last July. I feel like I am slowly getting my “eye” back, slowly remembering what looks good where and how I like my space to feel.

I’m making myself right at home.