I’m really more of a builder than a visionary. I would always tell people that my husband and I were a great match because he dreamed it up, and I made it happen.
But then he died.
While I was in prison.
It’s a long story, but the short version is I love you. And I love me.
And that’s pretty much all I know about who I am.
I’m starting over.
There’s a lot of stuff that needs fixing, and a lot of things that need doing, and a lot of dreams that need envisioning. I’m going to do my best, but in my-normal-builder style, I need a place to stay organized.
It makes me feel like I’m doing something, and holding myself accountable for those somethings…
at least I till I get in the habit of dreaming.
You know me— or, at least I think you do– how else would you have found this place? Now I’m feeling suspicious.
Where was I going with this?
Oh yes.
Where am I going?
That’s the question, and this is the place where I’ll be answering it.
Feel free to look around, offer up ideas, provide solutions, judge, laugh with me, cry at me, and on. You’re welcome here because that’s how I rawr.
Just like how I’m writing this page so I can stall on putting up any actual posts, which — by the way — will come in floods, so you probably don’t want to follow. Those posts could be various forms of content — maybe just a song, or a quote– since I’m literally imagining this to be a corkboard awkwardly shaped like a blog. Plus, there’ll be swear words and possibly thoughts on sex and relationships.
So maybe you don’t want to look at all.
Or maybe just check in every once in awhile.
Or maybe you do want to follow…
Shoot, I don’t even know how I feel about socks. I’m not really in a place to be bossing you around.
I don’t even know how I feel about being bossy.
It seems like something I’d like.
Not as much as I like you, though, so no worries there.
In fact, no worries in general, yeah?
Don’t panic.
I can fix this, and then everything’s gonna be okay.
E.G.B.O. 