I haven’t felt like producing much. The last year has felt like a re-introduction for how to live, and it’s felt like enough. Especially with writing, I’ve had this thought hanging over me that I should write some fiction or write a longer piece to actually try to publish it somewhere, but actually I reflexively shake my head when I think about doing that. Going through all that effort to court a spotlight seems like a bad idea.

I’m moving into my own apartment soon! OH MY GOSH I am excited to live like an adult again. I pretty much haven’t since I moved to California. But I’ll have my own kitchen, my own bathtub, my own porch, my own living room. SO AMAZING. I’m pretty weak at decorating, but someone recommended the book “Apartment Therapy” to me. I mostly think what I’m going to cook in the new apartment. My dad eats like such a midwesterner- lots of white flour, white potatoes, no seasoning. He mostly does his work from home in the room next to the kitchen, so I always felt like I had to get in and get out to leave him in quiet. I’m just so excited to take up a lot of space, and play my music, and putter around all day if I want. I can roast vegetables, I can crock-pot the shit out of some stews, I could even BAKE BREAD if I wanted. OH my gosh. ADULTHOOD. SO GREAT.

It’s going to be a slower process getting the apartment together though. Moving across the country twice in two years will really force a minimalist approach to possessions. I guess all I really need in there to move in is the kitchen basics, the bathroom stuff, and the bed. Other furniture can move in when I find it.

A nest! A cute comfortable spot with all my stuff! Food I like, colors I like, blankets I like, chairs I like, music I like, rugs I like, curtains I like, the whole deal! Time to get comfortable!

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