the brink.

and now we introduce my flair for dramatic phrases and elaborate musings on things that would otherwise remain inconsequential. it’s a service, really – bringing the more easily overlooked things to light in hopes that someone might pause and think, hmm, i’ve never really considered that, rather than the more likely there’s a reason no one thinks about those things and you’re crazy.

anyway. it’s really too soon to be calling this stage “the brink,” but it has so much more presence than “two days away from the brink” so we’ll go with it. maybe it’ll be a series – today can be part 1. that probably won’t actually happen. and if i didn’t call this ridiculous post “the brink,” then i would miss my chance entirely and the world would be worse off for it i’m sure.

i’m sort of stuck. i consider myself to be an individual who is well-acquainted with the in-between but despite all my years of living in it, i have yet to learn how to function within its confines. there is nothing comfortable about the no-longer-here-but-not-yet-there stages of life and i tend to stay in them longer than most. i’ve been in the present-at-home-but-not-settled-and-waiting-for-orvieto-but-not-ready stage for at least two weeks now. it’s awkward. and most days i choose to ignore this reality because otherwise i’m rendered relatively inert and lacking anything that remotely resembles motivation to do essential pre-departure things like buy new running shoes and return my library books. [i tried to buy running shoes two weeks ago and a short trial run in them left me with quarter-size blisters on both heels. oops.] instead i spend hours reading cooking blogs until i can’t stand it anymore and i have to go bake something myself. which explains the surplus of bread, cookies, pretzels, and other odds and ends currently cluttering up the counters. sadly i don’t have food blog-quality images to accompany my culinary exploits because i don’t have the necessary photography skills. i’m holding on to a small glimmer of hope that i might attain some during my stay in orvieto, whether by osmosis as i’ll be living with a group of students who are primarily art majors for four months, or by actual instruction.

my to-do list remains several miles long and every time i cross one thing off, i add four more things but i’m playing hooky tonight and potentially wading through miles of southern california rush-hour traffic to visit a friend i haven’t seen in far, far too long. the mountains of packing i have yet to do will still be insurmountable when i return to them tomorrow, so i see no reason not to push them into the recesses of my mind for a few short hours.

it’s always the process that incapacitates me. the waiting in between the action, the knowing i will be on a flight bound for breathtaking locales and exhilarating adventures in three days coupled with the needing to do so much in order to arrive at the threshold of the journey. you have to walk before you can fly, they say, but this walking feels more like endless uphill trudging with little visible progress and i wonder, if i don’t reach the summit soon, will i even have the strength to fly?

these are the things i wonder while i’m lying on my floor staring at my half-empty closet and dreaming of gelato but also trying to figure out how i’ll survive four months without a kitchen and an income.


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