I haven't had the urge to update here in about a week. I could have written about what I did last weekend while Jamie was on a boy's trip in Las Vegas, but even my imagination couldn't come up with any way to make "I sat on the couch and drank wine for two days" sound good. (It was soooo good, though.)
The lack of commitments made last weekend my oyster. I was going to write! I was going to take photos! I was going to get all of the prints I ordered organized and put in photo albums! Maybe I'd have time for crafts!
I did half of one of those things.
I'm not trying to fool anyone, though. Did get lonely? I had my moments. Did I cry when I watched American Pickers because I really wished my dad could have seen that episode? Definitely. (This super old grumpy-yet-charming man was a set decorator for western movies who was all buddy-buddy with The Duke? Dad! You're missing out, man!) But it really was good.
My weekend to myself wasn't the creative game-changer I thought it would be. It was supposed to get me out of my lull, and I can definitely say that it did not work out that way. At first, this disappointed me, but the days following my funk-filled weekend has allowed me to become appreciative for my uneventful time alone. Having two whole days and nights alone with my thoughts and emotions was somewhat exhausting, but really useful. I may not have gotten much accomplished, creatively, like I had hoped but the couch-time was still very beneficial.
Don't confuse this dreary post with depression. I may be missing my inspiration, but life is good and I am happy. Jamie and I are still having fun and making sure to enjoy our kidlessness. Last night, he let me shave his beard into something adventurous.
I guess I haven't lost all of my creativity...