Hey

Hello, my haven. I’m in need of a serious break; a breather, or a mental break, if you will, to say hellooooo here, in this, my very own godsend of a space.

[Breathing.]

I haven't been sleeping much. Restless nights. Racing thoughts. Splitting headaches.

[Breathing.]

As of yesterday, paint fumes have replaced the faint hints of lingering smoke damage from the fire, but there is now the post cleanup dread of repainting the space you’ve called home for over two years. I’ve crammed piles of donation items into my tiny bedroom for months now. The extra disarray and clutter from the paint job make me want to cry. In case I don’t know you in person, you should know that I’m not very dainty and pretty in many ways - crying is a classic case in point.

As if on cue, my sister and her boyfriend arrived back home ten minutes after I did last night. It was past eleven and I was exhausted. As I stuffed my face with avocado smeared atop a slice of some artisanal loaf or other, I watched the two la-la-la’ing in their drunken stupors. I wondered if I should have a glass of wine to calm the hell down about the mess in the apartment. It was in that very moment of watching two carefree drunk people that I confirmed that yes, this is exactly how I could benefit from the bottle. I am too tightly wound for my own good.

I can feel it coming, that crashing point.

[Breathing.]

You know what I need? A firm, stinging smack on the butt. You know what I mean. A little kick like the bit o’ spice in radishes. That would help snap me out of this minor funk.  And because I’ve brought up radishes, let’s look at these vibrantly punchy vegetable hues together. They’re doing something good for my mood already.

Union Square Greenmarket.  NYC.

1:23 pm.  Saturday.  2012.  16 June.