decompressing

I’m sitting on the balcony at dusk, looking out at a calm Lake Michigan. The sky is a darkening gray with the exception of a dramatic streak of hot magenta across the horizon where the sun finished setting a little while ago. I’m in a tank top and cargo pants, barefoot. The breezes are warm in a way they never are in SF. Somewhere a ukalele is playing, faraway voices drift up from the beach, waves lap the shore.

I arrived two days ago and I’m still transitioning to vacation mode. Carving out nearly two weeks’ vacation requires quite a lot lot lot of preparation, especially when you intend to draw a hard line and really disconnect during the days off. I worked late, got in early, delegated like mad, finished my last important to-do item on the plane. I arrived exhausted and grateful for the time and space I managed to clear.

My mom and sisters are playing Bananagrams on the dining room table inside behind me. Through the window next to me I can see the TV on a financial channel and my dad’s feet. My nieces are finally sleeping upstairs.

Feeling gratitude. Still decompressing. How does one find the time and space to meditate on a family vacation? I intend to find out.

Tomorrow, a bunch of us are running in the Running Bear 5K. Speed is not my forte but it seemed like a great local event and a much harder/better version of my regular morning workout. (Speaking of which, have you guys heard of the 7 minute workout? I did it with my sister this morning and it was kind of amazing in its brevity and efficiency.)

Beyond spending time with family, I want to: sleep, write, read, run, hike, meditate, and do yoga. And nap. I envision more regular blogging.

My fertility journey feels like it’s out of the spotlight, even as I prepare for FET#2. Earlier this month, I pictured coming home feeling defeated, but it hasn’t even really come up. Maybe a couple of welcome hugs lasted a few seconds longer than usual, but that’s it. In the bigger picture, I’m still on track.

Just moved inside away from the mosquitoes, which means I will soon be sucked into this game of Bananagrams. Now everyone at the table is afraid that I will call them out on their made-up words, such as “bah” and “groovies.”

Still thrilled beyond belief about the new apartment, and still waiting for the actual lease which was supposed to arrive today over email. Landlord assures me the place is mine and the current tenant assures me that she didn’t sign a lease until she was already painting the place. Let’s just wait patiently with our fingers crossed for the legal documentation to follow the verbal agreement. The day I sign the lease I will unleash the details and begin planning dinner parties, chamber music nights, and SMC meetings.

AF arrived today, kicking off the cycle in which I will transfer. So, we’re getting closer.

Meanwhile, relaxing and expanding like one of those skinny little orange stick sponges from Trader Joe’s in a bucket of water. Forgive my sleepy metaphor as I jump in to take my mom’s place in Bananagrams.