Feeling the desire to run away for an adventure, something outside my day-to-day to get caught up in. Miss who I was and who I might have been; there seem to be some years left in me and I want new adventures. That's a "be careful what you wish for statement," without question, but it's out there. I understand the appeal of fiction—not novels and such, but the personal fictions we write to make our lives more (or occasionally less) dramatic and meaningful. We don't need to buy into them wholeheartedly, just enough to add some spice. We all want to be heroes, each of our various stripes.
No idea what to do with my social calendar until I leave for Iowa. I'm unusually swamped, with good things of course, and wondering when I'll rest and where I'll fit in others who are important to me. The next week looks like this:
- Saturday: Christmas ships at Alki
- Sunday: Work/worship; Jane Monheit at Jazz Alley
- Tuesday: Community Group
- Thursday: Church lease meeting; Dinner party at Crawfords'
- Friday: Staff dinner at Haralsons'
- Next Saturday: Party at Feldmann's
- Next Sunday: Work/worship; Kids' Christmas Pageant; Carol Sing and Cider Bash </li>
- Next Monday: Christmas shopping and packing