As my checks start rolling in — sloooooowly — I'm loosening my purse strings a bit. Which means I've finally let myself splurge on the Wordpress theme I've had my eye on. (Hey, big spender!)
But as I crank through a busy post-holiday week at work, there's not going to be a lot of time to tinker and tweak. So if you read my blog on paigeworthy.com proper, it's going to look like a grabby-hands 6-year-old or really cute kitten (she will be mine) got all over my keyboard and reset a bunch of stuff.
Bear with me? Thanks. You're great. Oh, me? No, you.
Sidebar: Remember that time I didn't blog about Thanksgiving and skipped straight to some crazy story about a minor car crash? Don't think me ungrateful. God, I have so much to be thankful for. To the point where I'm so overwhelmed that I end sentences with prepositions. To the point where it seemed stupid to try to write about it.
However. I got back to my Chicago apartment on Saturday night around 9 p.m. Before I left, I turned the furnace off completely, and after five days the temperature inside had dropped…considerably. It was 40 degrees. So I put on a pair of socks, yoga pants and a hoodie, and jumped between my plaid flannel sheets, comforted tugged up to my chin. The Christmas lights were on, tree plugged in — I'd decorated before I left so I wouldn't be faced with the task in an extended tryptophan coma — and before I let my solitude depress me, I thought about how nice it is even to have people to miss. If loneliness were really my life, it would just be there all the time. It probably wouldn't get to me much. I do not like my apartment. And Wicker Park makes me die inside. But I was so happy to be back in my little Chicago life, missing my family (who I'll see again in less than a month) and eager to see friends again, that it… Well, it warmed the little cockles of my heart.
Cold hands, warm heart.
Bear with my ugly, rarely updated blog, please.