Expansive, Encompassing E

Enh.

This is the first blog I've kept up with on a regular basis, admittedly without a real direction or focused topic. It houses my scatterbrained thoughts in a rambling fashion and I'm sure by now the writing friends who suggested I try it are deeply regretting the idea. But quality aside, at the last minute I signed up for this blogging challenge. Putting something together every week or two is one thing, this daily posting is starting to wear on me.

So to start with, E is for Empty, mentally and emotionally. I.got.nothing. It was a regular kind of day that had just enough mild mannered hiccups in just the right flavors to wear down my disposition. As John Pinette would have said, I lost my cherub-like demeanor. We've moved beyond my family's version of March Madness and as my mom's mood and mental health begins to level off from near catastrophe, the extra scaffolding I put up internally to get through the month begins to dissolve. I can stop bracing for a tornado every other minute. Which means, to try to put a more positive spin on being empty, that it's time for a little extra self-care to refill the engine.

Part of what has kept the empty at bay for a bit has been having things to Enjoy in the chaos. Theme parks, movies, nights out, writing, blah, blah, blah, all with a growing network of friends. Good people, the kind of people who don't just talk to me because they want something from me. The kind of people who remind you of friends you had as a kid before things were more complicated and before everyone had so much baggage. Beyond the people and the activities, I have quiet activities to recharge my batteries. A good book, an engrossing video game, a few shows stockpiled on the DVR for just such an occasion. A big salad (or, you know, like chili cheese dogs or a burrito - I'm flexible) a comfy pillow and a few hours to myself are just the ticket.

I'll end with Expanse. There are few things that bring me such serenity in life as driving a long stretch of quiet highway at night, the cool darkness stretching out seemingly forever. In that moment, with the stars lighting up the sky, life's potential feels infinite even if my destination is close by. I love to drive. I love to travel by car. I'm kind of happy living in the middle of nowhere (being in a hurry aside) because each time I come home late in the day, I get a little recharge from driving through the woods on a two lane highway. Bonus points if the radio stations are cooperating with awesome tune-age.