Hell...  In a Handbasket

Mom couldn't have said it better.  I'm frustrated and some things I can't post just yet, and I'm heart broken by another.  On the up side of things Brody got called back by a bank today looking to set up an interview.

I haven't really talked to anyone about what's going on to be honest.  There's Brody, Gary, and Wes that know and for just this moment I'm going to keep it that way.

Ya know, on a subject that doesn't relate to anything at the moment, I used to write so much more deeply than I do now.  There were posts that were long and thought provoking.  Now It's just a wondering mess of disguised messages that are so encoded that I go back at times and wonder "What did I mean?".

I'm still excited about the new apartment, even though at times I'm terrified about how everything may turn out.  At this point it's one foot in front of the other and I will find a way to make it work.

That's the best thing I'm doing right now; Keeping calm, reminding myself that I will be okay, that this will work out.

Have you ever found a lose thread that when you tried to trace it or pull it out, more threads started to appear and the tapestry began to unravel?  Some times I feel that way with my family.  And the whole thing seems to melodramatic, as though it should be happening to a character in  V.C. Andrews novel, not my life. 

Miranda:  Oh brave new world with such people in it!
Prospero:  Tis new to thee.

Eventually I'll be able to post directly about what I so gingerly tiptoe around.  There are no time limits or legalities of any sort, just my own comfort level and ability to open up about the subject.  It hurts, and to write it is to admit it, and admitting it makes it real.  Yay for the stage of denial!  Don't worry, there's been anger and depression as well.

Moonstar of the Everlasting Sea