Hello, awesome readers.
I’m imagining that you’ve forgotten about me. Or worse, think I’ve forgotten about you. Not so. I’ve been busy. Busy writing, just not busy writing HERE.
Shame on me, I know.
As you’ve probably guessed from the title of this post, I recently wrote an article for LinkedIn. Yes, big whoopty dooda. But since it’s my first article for LinkedIn, it kind of is a big whoopty dooda; at least for me. My words are pretty much everywhere – sprayed across the internet like graffiti – but for some reason I’ve never written a full article for LinkedIn.
Here’s the link if you want to read it:
If you don’t want to read it, that’s cool. We can hang out here together for a while.
So how have you been?
I’ve been well. Busy and well. Busy with work. Busy with houses. Busy with moving.
Yes, I moved and have barely put words to the experience because I’m still processing. It’s one of those things that you didn’t plan on doing but then once you’ve gone and done it, you realize that you did it for the right reasons and everything begins to fall in place.
And yes, I’m talking about my house in the country … the one in the middle of nowhere … the one I bought at an auction … my haven …
Well, it’s up for sale. I’m currently writing a memoir about my experience in that house. Why? Because a lot happened during the 18 months that I lived there.
Things like I bought it thinking I would live happily ever after and soon realized that I was delusional and that my boyfriend (at the time) wasn’t the person I thought he was. Suddenly I was alone and had to learn how to do things like drive a tractor and empty a basement full of water and fix a toilet. I also had an epileptic seizure in that house and forgot who I was and lost my job. On the brighter side, I made some new friends, including my someone. Throughout it all I eventually managed to remember who I was, resurfacing as a better version of myself. (I like to think.)
*Deep breath* Phew. That was exhausting.
Why is my house for sale?
Because everything has its time … its season … its purpose. And it’s with a heavy heart that I say out loud: my house has had its time. Bare of its proverbial leaves, its season has ended and its purpose complete.
Why am I writing a book about the house that I love and am now selling? Because writing always makes me feel better. Writing is my wine … my chocolate … my therapy. And then there’s writing WITH wine and chocolate, which is even bigger than therapy. It’s like taking a moment to remember, relive, come-of-age, and share.
If you’re a Friends fan, selling my house is like Monica and Richard’s break-up. They loved each other yet realized and accepted that they both wanted different things. Adulting is not always easy and selling my house is me realizing that I need to be somewhere else right now.
If you want to read the blog post that inspired the book (of the same title) you can read it here:
Or you can just go here and read the article I wrote for LinkedIn.
Either way, it seems there’s just no getting away from me. *insert evil laugh*
Follow this blog with Bloglovin.