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one hell of a something

i don't often feel the need to explain myself on my blog--to defend what i'm writing or why i'm writing. this is more an explanation to my future self, when i look back on this. believe it or not, i have a hard time remembering the process of how i get out of dark times and hard situations. i'm making more of an effort to write things down this time, both here and on paper.

i woke up to a wonderful email from an incredible friend. among many other things, he encouraged me to recognize what talents i have and use them to make myself happy. it really struck a chord with me. when i'm feeling low, i don't want to write. i don't want to acknowledge the things i'm going through and the things i'm feeling. i don't want to put that pain into words. i feel gun shy, like i can't write or i don't have anything to write about that is happy. and honestly, my writing sucks when i write with an empty heart. so it's easy to give up on it, to do nothing, to acknowledge that i just can't do anything right now and then press play on another episode of real housewives of orange county.

but i'm going to resume writing. if it's terrible, pointless, and empty, i am going to write. i'll start documenting the mundane routines of my life, presented in any matter. sometimes it might be pleasant and cheerful, and sometimes it might be more realistic (like: look at this stupid stuff and realize how much i hate it), but i'm going to write.

let's start with this morning.

today is the first day of winter. i know some people have been experiencing it for a while, but quite frankly i don't care. because all i know is that i woke up this morning to my phone alerting me that the roads were icy, the wind was high, and the temperatures were low. i rolled out of bed and pulled out my boots and headed outside to de-ice my car [oh florida, how i miss you].

my drive to work was an ordeal. i drove slowly, panicked, hands gripping the wheel, as i passed three car accidents, two blown out tires, and one guy stuck in a ditch. i recieved encouraging texts the whole way from my boss (you can do it. drive slow. stop panicking. stop reading these texts.) who told me at any point i could pull over, park, and they would just come get me.

by some miracle i arrived at work without injury. i made a cup of hot chocolate as i stared out the glass panes at the icy road behind us. i got all enchanted by it and decided i should go outside and take pictures.


bad idea.

this should have been my first clue:


the wind was blowing so hard that i could barely get the door open. that didn't stop me. i used my shoulders to push the door open and staggered outside, the wind ripping through my way-too-thin sweater. i made it for a solid three seconds before reaching the stairs. these stairs will forevermore be known as the stairs of death. 


it took one touch of my heel to the ice-covered cement for me to go down. with shock, surprise, and more confusion than is appropriate, i quickly got back on my feet. 'quickly' is never a good idea when ice is involved. i went down again. and that sums up my first fall of this winter.

i knew that to do my bruised tailbone justice i had to get at least one picture.

boom. ice. take that, national geographic. 

i also took a picture of my feet. i'm realizing now that these type of boots are made for fall--when it's not that cold but you want to be trendy. real winter requires shoes with better traction. like snowshoes or maybe some soccer cleats. 


i tiptoed my way back inside, made some hot chocolate, and decided i'm just going to sleep at the office tonight to avoid what is surely an unavoidable death. 

recognize my ox sweater ?

 [title from burn by ellie goulding]

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