Saturday, March 31, 2012


It’s been five months since I wrote here...nearly half a year!  I’ve been busy during that time—very busy—but not doing any writing to speak of.  These five months have been all about my move.

I’m settled nicely in Houston, renting a sweet little ranch-style house that carries more of the 1950s flavor from when it was built than any current styling.  I’ve been painting and decorating and walking that fine line between staying with a mid-century décor and what suits me, what I would like to have in any house.  Even more than that, I’m venturing out of my former style and going for things that I once would have admired but always thought, I’d love that, but I could never make it work.

I say “sweet little ranch-style house,” but in reality, it’s not little at all.  It’s much more space than my two dachshunds and I need.  But it’s also a five-minute commute to work and, best of all, owned by my former brother-in-law, who’s giving me a great deal on the rent.  It’s got an excellent outside patio, flower boxes and flower beds that are filled and blooming, and it’s close to family and shopping.  Really, it provides for all my needs.

My work situation is...well, really good!  I have some wonderful friends here, and I’m doing a different job than I expected when I got here.  I don’t mind—at all—the things that make up my “official” duties—supervising the transportation department—but it’s the interaction with patients that seems most worthwhile.

Did I mention that I’m working at a behavioral health center?

There was a time when I would have been horrified at the idea.  I like things neat and orderly and balanced; those with mental and behavioral challenges are anything but those things!  Our days at work are pretty much some form of organized chaos:  made chaotic by the patients but injected with whatever organization and calm the staff can provide.  Truly a contradiction of worlds.

But somehow I like it.

And that’s the best thing about my move.  I’m happy.  Happier than I’ve been since the day my husband—now long ago ex—walked out the door.  Happy in a way that I didn’t think I’d ever find again.  I’ve worked tirelessly to learn and grow and change, understand all the things I needed to know in order to be happy on my terms and not related to anyone else in the world.  Funny, when it began to pay off, I didn’t even recognize it!  It took me a couple of weeks to see that it was genuine happiness that I felt.  The joy I’ve felt since then is indescribable.

Not that I haven’t continued on my journey.  There’s no living on my past laurels, as a friend of mine is fond of saying.  And one of my favorites:  it’s not the destination, it’s the journey.  So I’m continuing on, finding my place in this world, learning my lessons...and one day—soon, I hope—I’ll be able to start working on the next book.


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