I'm leaving this residency a less fearful and more inspired, thoughtful person. The entire time I lived in income-based housing, I said that I wasn't really working much because what job could possibly pay me enough to value the one commodity I have always prized above all else? Time. (Believe me, I look back on that version of me with some level of shame at that entitlement. Reality Bites is hardly comedy or fiction for me. #HardcoreGenXer)
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I’m stretchy-chasey, how about you?
Sometimes I wish life were more binary. I want to be stretchy. Period. I don't want to be stretchy and chasey, although truthfully, being chasey sometimes drives me to figure things out just to alleviate my envy. But it's hard to live simultaneously with those two qualities because the chasey feels like it is drowning the stretchy, and I know that the stretchy just needs more time.
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Watch. Hit rewind. Play again.
We repainted our bedroom yesterday; a task we have been talking about for nearly as long as we have been married (one week short of 12 years). Social isolation has given us the time to do a ton of house projects, and I am grateful. The verdict is still out on the bedroom for me, despite the fact that I picked the color, but I am glad we did something in there. Aside: When Quinn was young, he was obsessed with Space Jam and watched it over and over for about three years. Dr Marry tells this funny story of one of the first nights he was babysitting. They were building LEGOs and…
