Somewhere along the line I realized I wasn't doing anything in my life I enjoy anymore. All I do is work and try to sleep. Repeat, seven days a week and have become tired at the age of twenty-one. I don't write anymore, I don't sing anymore, I don't read anymore. It wasn't until (back to living with my parents) both of the cars we own broke down simultaneously, and us, thirty minutes out from civilization are back to the mercy of the bus system with no end in sight. (Lucky for us Island County's buses are free.) I was sure this was the beginning of even harder times but what I hadn't realized was that sitting on a bus there is nothing I can do but sit. Sit and relax and breathe and even finish a book. Halfway through my trip I found fifteen minutes to spend at the library. I am singing at the end of my street, waiting for the bus, even at five in the morning, I have read five books in the past month and sometimes even bring along a notebook to write in. While at the library last week I found a book on organic gardening and a few on soap making.
I'm excited. I'm ready to start doing the things I tell myself I am going to. Someday. Well, I'll have my supplies in a few days.