Flipflops in the Rain

chances are if you’re reading this, you know i’ve not-so-recently-but-recently-enough uprooted myself from everything i know and moved to a land not-so-far-but-far-enough away. one of the reasons i jumped at the chance to move across the country was because i was bored. thought i needed a change to cheer myself up and stop the daily highs and lows.

turns out a not-so-simple-but-simple-enough move, sponsored and paid for by my employer, just increased the highs and lows. if i missed you a smidgen before, i miss you a million smidgens now. if i loved you a pinch before, i love you tablespoons more. if i hated something then, i despise it and want to tear it in pieces now.

I’ve always been somewhat emotional — my parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, teachers, acquaintances will tell you that in a heartbeat. But I honestly feel like i’ve gotten emotionally younger and more immature since moving. I catch myself tearing up at odd times about odd situations, and I can’t stop myself.

granted, things aren’t always bad. in fact, this past week has been pretty fabulous. i just wanted to put fair warning out there to all who know me, but may feel like they don’t *know* me lately.

(there’s a chance this post is red-wine inflicted. i apologize. ish.)