barbtries a blog
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
how do i feel about moving to NC
which is a decided reality:
scared. anticipatory. terrified. excited. worried.
exhilarated. exhausted [permanently?]. determined.
petrified. fret fret fret, yooHOO! ohshit, ohyeah!
crazy. 'bout half crazy at least, or at best. worst
case i'll be taken off the street before i get to NC
for incorrigible insanity in the presence of a minor
child.
and i just keep thinking about the turtles and the
cedar chest and the room in the car - what to take
what to store what to jettison. i have kind of a
plan related to that but a hellalot of anxiety.
this much is for sure: rory and i are moving to NC.
breathe, barbara, breathe
love you, i'll try you again tomorrow
barbara
Thursday, August 09, 2007
email to a friend
i got up couldn't sleep. started reading on my DU...found this on a post
"One last thing. Being poor means that dropping everything
in your life to chase an ephemeral dream of a better life
1000 miles away, based on nothing more than a phone interview,
seems like a good idea. My wife did exactly that, and as a
result 10 years later we aren't poor anymore. It wasn't
necessarily smart, but we were lucky, plus my wife found
a way to MAKE it work."
we need to talk. but rory and me need to decide, and
ultimately i need to decide for both of us. right
now i'm thinking, storage everything and get out
of dodge. i'll be hearing within a couple of days
whether there is a viable working situation for
me in your neighborhood.
i don't know if i am crazy. i just don't know! i
mean fuck, michele, some people might think i'm
crazy to keep on trying to make it here where
all the facts say i'm failing. but it's all i've
ever known. my children, my grandchildren, my
baby's grave. how can i make such a radical move?
how can i ignore the signs that say it's time
for a radical move? is it opportunity knocking
or just the dribbling out my head of the last
remains of my mind?
let me know your thoughts....love you barbara
Who am i, what am i
A picture's worth
moon phases |
I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking
grief to sleep in my arms.
issues
Poetry roll
Comments by: YACCS