It’s 10:30 pm and Hubs is already sleeping while I’ll probably be awake until midnight or so. My day starts at about 6:30/7:00am while he wakes at 8:00/8:30. I’m usually annoyed by the sun streaming around our black-out curtains (purchased specifically for my cave-sleeping requirements), whereupon I stumble to the kitchen for coffee before heading out into the garden to see how my ‘babies’ have survived the night. After lovingly greeting each for the morning, observing/supplying their needs, I’m on ‘go’. The rest of my day is on adrenaline – I rush to get ready for the job, rush there, rush to the needs of customers/bosses/coworkers, rush through government-regulated breaks/lunch, rush home after an 11 hr day, and rush to my garden again. Then I slow down and enjoy!
Free days are different but similiar. As I’m no longer in my beloved land of the Sunday/24-hour shopping experience; after the lazy early morning routine, I rush through errands, rush around online searching for/applying to opportunities to resurrect my DOA-(to Austria)-career, rush to get in a few hours of German language study/homework/classes, rush to meet with/catch up with friends, rush to enjoy the swiftly dwindling hours of free time left before I’m once again at the beck-and-call of others.
NYC wasn’t anything like this. There I was commander of my destiny and complete – as a wife, a businesswoman, a friend, and a daughter. Ironically, my first plants (all cacti) died. Now, I’m adrift at sea, waiting for my ship, clinging desperately to a failing raft of uplifting nothingness (these stupid quotes/memes that even I’m not believing anymore…but we all need hope right?), fighting back fear/regret/tears with glasses of wine, awesome veggies (lol), sarcasm, and hope – but heck, according to the neighbors, I’ve got a green thumb!
It’s 11pm, I’m tired…of waiting, worrying, wondering, and hoping. I want to be happy again. My mind is on my garden; it’s the one place I’m happy. But it’s also on the garden of me…that has seems fallow, empty, dead. I question, am I blooming, surviving, or simply finished? Nonetheless, I’m always reminded: it’s always darkest before the dawn…time to get to bed, a new dawn will come, a chance is just around the corner, just hold on…
A Bahamian In Austria 
Lovely! I totally understand. I married at 40 and moved from the urban to the country. That move was very hard in many ways. I was lost. I lost myself for while. My husband says that the one thing we can count on is change. Nothing stays the same. Breathe.
Hi, my husband and mom say the same thing; that and also, the things I’m ‘surviving’ will make me a stronger, more capable person. I’m just thinking about getting through the hour, day, week. Thanks for the comment and support. Taking a breath now, lol. 🙂