Today at work we had a Spring Food Festival. The party planning committee, who are a lot nicer than their Office counterparts, decorated a conference room all cute with flowers and bunnies and pastel colors;  and invited people to bring their favorite dish. I elected to bring bread. Ok, so I brought GOOD bread, but still. I knew I wouldn’t have time for anything else, and I was right. I didn’t even get home last night until almost 8. My feet hurt, my head hurt, and I was just exhausted. I am actually surprised that I remembered the freaking bread.

I feel like it’s spring in a metaphorical sense as well. A new beginning in my life. I haven’t been this happy…ever. I used to just think I cried a lot because I was sensitive, but I think I was just really unhappy. I catch myself smiling a lot more. Singing to myself. Whistling! I have never, ever, done that before.  I actually want to go out and do things. I want to get up in the mornings. I want to go to work. I want to have a life.

It’s almost been a year since we moved back to New Mexico, and while it was a bumpy start, I am starting to think it was the best decision I ever made. My homesickness for LA is all but nil now, and I feel like our life has just started. Marriage is a weird, funny thing, but I love that too.

So it might be the coldest, windiest spring on record, but I still celebrate it. New life is springing up everywhere around me, and within me. That’s got to be good.


One thought on “Spring.

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