Year of the Butterfly

Today I had to run errands. I hate doing that. It makes me feel like a productive member of society. And I found myself buying gourmet hot chocolate and wine glasses. And thinking about going home for four days. I'm actually looking forward to it. The weather back home is currently significantly worse than the balmy weather of Southern California. There it's sub zero, with 6 inches of snow expected to fall tomorrow. But I'm actually excited about it.

So how messed up must I be? Messed up enough to be looking forward to seeing my entire messed up family. Messed up enough to not mind temperatures that are colder than a well-diggers ass(a favorite saying of my father's). Enough that the inherent drama of seeing my sister and the bittersweetness of seeing my grandmother in failing health is not making me cringe. I actually want to go home. I actually want to see people. I'm wondering if I'll ever want to come back. And that's what makes me feel like I'm messed up.

I decided this has to be a good year. Because last year was pretty rough. It was a long, lonely, heartbroken road. I can't say I'm not still on that road, but I'm hoping to find the fork for the way out. It's true, misery does love company, but so does happiness. I've been shying away from company for such a long time, the idea of having it seems utterly foreign now. And it seems difficult. Because I'll have to make sure to keep my insides where they belong-inside. So this must be the year of distraction. Of ridiculously full schedules, previous engagements, and of course, lots and lots of denial. The Year of The Butterfly.