I'm Back

I'm back home and

I am sitting here at my computer and wanting to write, but what I have done for the last few minutes is just stare.

Delete

That’s what I do when I write something boring or stupid, which happens when I should have kept starring because I don’t know what to say.

I think I’ll just tell you what is going on, bring you up to snuff, and paint the picture of my today.

I flew in from Boston a few days ago. Boston, by the way, is a wonderful city to visit. You'd love it. We, my three highschool girlfriends and I did. (Every year for the past seven, we get together for us.) We walked the freedom trail and soaked in history. Saw Paul Reveres house and then his grave. Took in the Boston commons and public garden. Had beers at Cheers. (see photo) Took the ferry to Salem, witch trials and potions and the House of Seven Gables. We went to Harvard and took the unofficial tour around campus. Back in the big city we shopped and walked and talked. All good.

Now back home for a while, I have reopened my studio and had a few, very few, customers stop in, but that's exactly what I expected, gives me time for gallery improvements. It’s nice.

I have spent time with friends, and really, I love that. A lot.

I am getting used to having the ex next door. (Sort of) There are periodic sightings but no contact. No words. From time to time I go on line for an educational update on relationships and learn stuff that offers new perspective, understanding and insight into me and, well, him, too. It is uncanny how other people can say what is in my head, but I didn't know how to put into words. Hopefully this is reasonable and not obsessive behavior. I am pretty happy most of the time.

Still I am contemplating a move. Just thinking. The consensus is that living next door to your ex is a bad thing. Maybe so. Probably so. Now, I am only talking about a move from this street address, but still staying in the 33785 zip code. This is my community. And it's a good one. I have been around. I know.

I may have an opportunity to rent my studio/home so that brings the moving issue to my desk top for serious consideration. Moving means closing Wabi Sabi Studio and Gallery. Moving means (most likey) no Gulf Blvd front porch sitting. Moving means the drudgery of moving.

On the other hand. Moving means no ex next door. Moving means freedom from the gallery. It means more leisure. It means change. And……moving means moving on!

I can’t decide. The monkey wench in the project is that I really have no place to move to, yet. That’s the challenge.

Anyway. I can’t decide. This is a really big issue for me. Not as big as death or divorce, but still pretty big.

What do you think? I really am stumped. I could go either way.