I just left the city and moved to the mountains.
This town is beautiful, quiet, and it smells like earth rather than car fumes and street-cleaning dust. People here are friendly and accommodating. They stop their cars when you want to cross the street, they take the time to learn your name and explain exactly how driving in the snow works up here, and when you are standing in the middle of the grocery store skeptically holding that miniature basil plant, they pause to let you know that theirs has been living on their windowsill for the past 3 years.
Living here is a dream. And therefore I should feel like this:
But instead, around 1pm each day, I find myself feeling like this:
I need a job. I am convinced that once my life has a bit more purpose (and money) to it that I will be able to FULLY appreciate this amazing place we live in. But for now, I have never had to work so hard to enjoy my free time. All play and no work makes me…insane. I am learning that about myself. Today, for example, I spent the majority of my time upstairs in the loft next to the pool table (see?? dream.) watching 4 episodes of Gossip Girl and sweating into the faux-leather couch from Goodwill that I made Matt drag up the mountain.
I love it here and would never give it up to go back to the city that stole my soul, I just…need something to do.
Thus, a blog was born.