Sunday, January 8, 2012


What is the restless feeling I have lately? It isn't that I want to be somewhere or someone else, but more that something is missing. And then to compound the confusion, a feeling that I shouldn't be feeling this way. I know I don't get enough of the people and things in my life that I love, but it shouldn't make my temper quite as short as it seems to be. Patience used to be my thing (that, and eating really slowly), but it's more of a visitor than a virtue these days. As far as eating goes, what I still lack in speed, I make up for lately in frequency.

Why am I motivated enough to create pretty little vignettes around the house, but not especially moved to do the big stuff, like put the Christmas decorations in their bins so we can open the door to the extra bedroom and actually enter the room? I have these cookbooks that I love reading, and yet, I never seem to have the mind space (life space?) to actually cook from them. I know so many women do so much more with less, and yet, here it is. As I type, I think, really? This is what you're "restless" about? Poor you, can't motivate to clean all of your holiday decorations out of your extra bedroom? Asshole.


I wonder if something soothing to drink might help. To that end, do I want to make a chai tea or pour a double triple Chardonnay (or a Pinot, or a Zin...really, those who know me know that the answer to "Red or white?" with me is nearly always "Yes, please.").

I'm not a complete train wreck on a daily basis. I do glimpse the peaceful me sometimes, like when a favorite song comes on, one that moves me to breathe into the music lyrically, as music so often used to do to me when I spent my days and nights choreographing. (Did someone say dance party? What?? I said patience used to be my thing, not focus.)

But then there's that restless feeling again, driving me to extremes, which for me these days means I either go on a cleaning frenzy (take THAT, Christmas decor, and guilt regarding the aforementioned), or I climb into bed and hope to find a chick flick circa 1997 on TBS, and then another, and maybe another, until suddenly it's 2:30am and OH MY GOD, is it too late to order hot lunch for tomorrow because there's no way I'll get up in time to pack lunches now.

Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to keep my eye on the horizon and enjoy the sunset or the sunrise or the clouds...really anything...because when I look down, I get the impression that my life raft is somewhat held together with duct tape and super glue. I have to keep my chin up, otherwise, the downward glance can begin the downward spiral that can eventually capsize the Good Ship Amy. 

I hesitate to throw this out there, but here it is. I don't think it's material things (or lack thereof) causing that restless feeling, but I do struggle with the inherent ugly American in me, that girl who occasionally wants more. More stuff, better stuff, different, pretty stuff with big price tags and big wow factors. You know, like a shiny new life raft with espresso-stained oars and a matching yacht, complete with a new family wardrobe, college tuition funds, and bi-yearly vacations abroad. Also, I'd like to meet Ina Garten and Adele because I get the sneaking suspicion they would both want to be my bestie.

Ick, right? I know. It feels dirty coming out of my fingertips. I have stuff aplenty. I write this knowing full well that kids across the world (heck, kids across town) have no food, let alone new Fall boots. Hello, hypocritical're rather prickly, aren't you?

Before you close the window in which you read this, having cleverly decided I'm either crazy, or that this blog has taken an unfortunate turn and isn't worth reading anymore, be honest with yourself. Have these things never crossed your mind? Or maybe your list of "Pretty Things I Want" is all check, check, chiggity-checked off, but you still feel restless and neither chai nor Chardonnay is the remedy. We all have to put one foot in front of the other, and true, some of us follow the yellow brick road, and others of us stumble our way down a dirt path, but as long as we just buck up and keep moving, we'll get there. There hopefully being the place where we can put our collective feet up and wish for nothing more for ourselves than another day, and then another, and another, with the sun rising and setting smack dab right where we are.

And really, where I am is right where I choose to be. I do have everything (and everyone) I need, and most of what I want. And I wouldn't trade what I've got for what I don't. Except for the chai I'm drinking now...I would trade that in for a Chardonnay in the blink of an eye. See? There it is again. Restless. Selfish maybe, but restless.

In any case, tonight I think I will leave the extra bedroom in it's unattractive post-holiday state, and leave the laundry to languish (aka wrinkle) in the dryer. I'm going to take my warm chai, and put myself in my warm bed, with my big, warm puppy, turn on the TV, and watch with my chin up, grateful that I'm smack dab in the middle of this moment, this place, this life.



  1. I have one word for you, sister....MENOPAUSE! I turned 40 last year and the change has begun. It makes you C.R.A.Z.Y. Although, the things that you are talking about...not so crazy. All of us struggle with all those same things and if they say they don't...they are the asshole! :) I am ACTUALLY going crazy. I can't remember my own name most days. My brain is full of fog. and patience?? forget it. there is none. ever. love ya!

  2. Friend! I'm pretty sure my Mom went through The Pause sometime in her 50s, so I'm afraid I'll be enjoying The Curse for several years to come. In other words, I have no excuse for my C.R.A.Z.Y., though I may start blaming all kinds of things. So glad to hear you're foggy too, though. Wish we still lived around the corner from one another. We could figure it out together. Loving you!

  3. I'm officially addicted to your blog. :-) At least you have the decency to keep your laundry in the dryer. Mine simply pile up like a huge mountain on the bed, it gets too late, then land in the laundry basket at the foot of the bed for an average of three days. Do I feel bad that my kids sometimes have to find clothes for school by running naked across the house to our room and dig around in a pile of wrinkly clothes? Kinda, but obviously not enough to fix the problem. :-) Besides, it's become a cute routine.

  4. Gailene, there is no guilt in carpet shopping. I did it in college...your kids are just honing their skills early. And who am I kidding, I still do it. When the laundry piles up on the bed and I can't gather enough energy to fold before I sleep, I have been known on occasion to move the pile to the floor. Currently, I have one load in the dryer, one in the washer, a full basket of wrinkled clothes to fold, and already folded piles on the kitchen table. Guess what I'm doing tonight?

  5. Brilliant Amy. Each time you strike a cord that makes total sense. Thank you! Don't stop.

  6. I love that I'm making sense to someone other than myself. That's the best. And because you said that, I can't stop! :)