little sarah Big World

Category: Everyday Adventures

Further Gratitude

~OR~

Senseless and Full of Meaning

Also on Thanksgiving I took a cab ride, after saying “So am I just not allowed to drive drunk anymore?”

And in the cab we played ukelele

Also on Thanksgiving I drank too much and got sick, after saying “I’m so drunk right now!” with a big big grin

And in the bathroom there were stairs up to the toilet

Also on Thanksgiving I appreciated the small things, the ridiculous and nonsensical, after spending years terrified of absurdity

As though a lack of order and sense precluded the presence of beauty and wonder

Or as though all the pieces needed to fit neatly into place for me to see the whole picture

When, really, things go out of order, but they go on

And in the meantime, there is laughter, and love, and whatever purpose we ascribe to the task at hand

In the meantime, there is life to be lead, ridiculous though it may seem at times

The Truest Story of All

Random Thoughts Upon Waking from a Nap at 10pm:

-I don’t want to get up.

-But I can’t just keep sleeping. People are texting, and I’m supposed to want to see them. Supposed to feel social.

-I did feel social, but then I took a nap, and now I feel strange. Like napping did me wrong.

-Like the time when I talked about wanting to die and kill myself in my sleep and scared the shit out of Kevin, but I didn’t remember it when I woke up and didn’t feel that way.

-What if there are demons that try to attack my soul while I’m sleeping? That’s totally possible. I should probably tell Chad about it.

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Inward

 

Sometimes I heal myself through art, Friends. Well…art and a steady stream of To-Do lists. That is life. For me, at least.

This smattering of memorabilia counts as both–something I’ve been wanting to tackle for a long time and something that I thought would bring a better sense of self to my living space and my life.

I call it my “Anti-Anxiety Mural,” and–much like its predecessor–it works like a charm. Like some form of spiritual nesting.

In other news: my very favorite person went out of town, and I’ve spent the weekend at home, making crafts and drinking, or baking and catching up with old friends, or drinking cocoa and watching movies in bed.

Or, you know, reading myself bedtime stories. Because I can. Because I want to. Because this is what being good to myself and living the life I want to looks like right now.

Just don’t ask me what that may look like in the future. I have no idea, and the mural’s only good for so much.

Working

…should always look like this.

And I am working on making that happen.

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Preserves

 

Just another Sunday, running errands, visiting family. Coping with life the best I know how.

Kitchen Time

I have been working so much, Friends. Too much. Too much work, too much play, not enough Sarah Time, which (honestly) tends to just be Kitchen Time.

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This Happened:

A hike happened, with 9 different ladies and only 1 common-denominator friend, thrown loosely together, after work on a Tuesday.

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Mellow

I’m really into yellow lately–yellow nap blankets, yellow squash from the garden, new yellow pillows from Lindsey.

It just seems a more Fall way to be, yellow. The whole turquoise and bright red thing is too young and optimistic. It’s too summery.

Now turquoise and YELLOW, well…that is some adult shit right there. That is reading Nora Ephron in my own apartment with an afghan draped over my business casual wear.

Anyways.

I am on a plane right now as you read this, headed west. One last dose of sunshine while it is raining and September-perfect in Salt Lake, and then home again. New and improved.

Wasalaza

Sometimes a thing is so funny to me that once it starts being funny it doesn’t stop being funny. For life.

Like when Robby described his AA meetings as “a bunch of people sitting around smoking like animals.”

Or that New Year’s in Spain where I took a hanger out of the hall closet and hung my coat up in the bathroom.

Or there was this one time, with a bowl of cereal…actually I have never successfully told the cereal story without laughing myself to tears. It is just that funny to me, and usually not at all funny to anyone else.

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Summer in Retrospect

At the height of summer the sun was rising when my alarm woke me at six, light spreading across the valley as I biked to work in shorts and a t-shirt. Then each morning grew a little darker, a little more chill, and I began wearing my hoodie again, shadows chasing me as I sped downhill.

September came, and you could feel Fall on the wind, like a thought whispered, a slight breeze past your ear. The promise of crisp, clean air and burnt colors and crunch. And I was ready.

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