A Comma, Not a Period

These pictures are proof that I haven't fallen completely out of touch with myself and stopped cooking.















But mostly, I have been stewing.















I've been stewing in frustration with my inability to be the complete person I want to be. I don't know how to simultaneously be a friend, a homekeeper, a responsible citizen, a daughter, a girlfriend, and a teacher. Of all those roles, the teacher is the most all-consuming. No, contrary to public opinion, I do not show up at school at 8am and leave promptly at 3pm. Nor does the myth that all after-school time is mine hold true.

I could spend hours complaining here, but I am not going to. Instead, I'm going to disappear for a week or so from A Thinking Stomach, perhaps a smidgin' more, and get my head back on straight. I'm going to go camping and spend hours climbing around tidal pools and soaking up woodfire smoke.

I need to get my happy self back, and I'm going to do my best to find it. Wish me luck.