find me

Guess what. I'm here. Somewhere in a pile of boxes and bubble wrap, in a make-believe apartment, living a make-believe life.

It is a wild bounce between moments of "I'm HERE and here we go" and "Is this really happening and is it just a dream gone bad?"

The odd thing is, I think I like it here. And I'm excited by this bit of creativity I feel stirring. And I feel motivated to create. And I KNOW that I am done with Florida.

But how can I be here if things are not finished in Florida? It's like being caught between two lives. or three lives. Or more.

There's a short financial time to figure these things out.

And part of me is angry, very angry. I had some idea that I would be financially taken care of, the there would be a safety net, and you know what, it's the same-old-same-old. ME and my daughter, and what? Where is my partner with the 100K job, holding space for me? NEver mind that, the 50K job? Where is the dime that I don't have to puke over?

Why am I here again?