No, I Haven’t Died

No, I Haven’t Died

It happened on October 29th, as I recall. I’d awakened just as I had on the days before – groggy and sad, the promise of a cup of coffee the only thing keeping me from hitting SNOOZE. I must have stepped wrong. Irregularly as I got out of bed, for I managed to slip and tumble down into the holiday black hole. While I should get out soon, there’s a lot going on in here: lots of candy, more booze than I can store in our cupboards, plenty of lunches and dinners out with friends and family. You see, in addition to the normal frenzy this time of year brings, I also turned 40 a couple weeks ago, celebrated my 13th wedding anniversary, and today is my husband’s birthday. So I’ve had visitors over to the house, cake, wine, laughs, late nights, more cake.

And I must mention my daughter’s dance activities – 2 days of competitions, 2 days of conventions, and a holiday show. So can you blame me for not posting for the last month? Should I feel bad for not achieving my 1,000-words-per-day goal?

Of course I should. But I’m ready to come out. This pit is getting sticky and putrid. And if I stay here any longer, I’ll not be able to fit through the hole through which I first fell (thanks to all the cake). So give me this week – this Thanksgiving week – to push through, to string myself free. To acclimate to the old me. To retrain my brain, my stomach, my liver for the routine, the rigorous, the rigid writing life so that in another month, when Christmas hits, I’ll be careful not to fall in again.

Or at least I’ll think to bring a ladder with me to facilitate an earlier exit.

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