It's been a week since I've blogged, and I must say it is an odd feeling to not have much to say, even after seven days of "written silence."
I haven't been out saving the world, creating new cupcakes, or pulling brilliantly creative ideas out of my brain. At best, I've painted half my room, almost conquered a two mile run, and contemplated selling my left kidney on the black market to pay for the girls' vet bill. Exciting stuff, right?
I have never been a huge fan of silence, ever. I used to (and admittedly, still do sometimes) sleep with a radio or TV on, just so I wouldn't be left to ponder in the dead of night. I also used to be a seasoned pro at scheduling my life down to seconds to prevent hours upon end of being with myself. Granted, most days my life is still jam-packed and neatly outlined in my daytimer, but fear is no longer the motivation. Life is enjoyable now and I'm happy to rise and meet it... even if it means a slower-paced week and ample time for introspection.
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