It's been awhile

princessstepf is back, and still living in queen city...
I've learned a few things lately.
In the past, I didn't deal well with stress. I'm learning, I'm adapting, I'm thriving. This new job made me nervous. I'd get stressed and snap at someone, have a panic attack after so long without on, fail miserably in front of everyone. But I haven't. And I don't think I will.
Reporting suits me. The writing and the balance is coming along slowly, but the socializing comes naturally. I'm good at this. I'm new, and I've got so much to learn, but I'm happy.
I learned how to find balance.
I leave work at work and home at home. Fred and I don't discuss bad days and sum up good ones in five words or less. Sometimes we break the rules, but we leave the stress at work, if there is any. The minute one of us picks the other up, the day is forgotten, work abandoned until tomorrow. I'm happier this way, and I find myself getting more out of work and home. (Except for that one hungover day this weekend.)
I've gotten distracted. I'm trying to remember life without the mind-numbing distraction of TV and Internet. I want to read something that inspires me. I'm trying to exercise more again. I've got 10 pounds to lose, but I'm not obsessing.
I am still looking for my next hobby, my newest passion. So far, nothing has matched Korea. I should read more in French, study Korean, relearn Italian. I will.
My life is good, and I'm proud of the person I've become. I drink less, care more and laugh loudly. I don't dwell on the past, and I (try to) think before I speak. I think of you, before I act out. I apologize for my mood swings, I don't lash out.
I'm growing plants, eating vegetables, making friends.
I'm in love.
My nails are long, a sign that life is good. When my nails fall apart, it means that life isn't going so well. Ragged cuticles, hangnails, chipped polish are more than superficial observations; they're benchmarks for my sanity. Ten well-maintained digits mean a happy life.
I've been having strange panic attacks in the moment before I fall asleep. Suddenly, as I drift between sleep and wake, I remember: Some day I will be dead. I am mortal. There's time, but it's no eternal life on Earth. And it makes me sad that I don't believe. It makes me want to believe.
I want to write, to make sense of the chaos that goes on in my mind. I'm learning, through yoga and love, to relax, enjoy the moment.