Reasons

I am sitting in front of my computer, trying to think of how I want to write what's been going on in the last few days, when a question just kind of popped into my head.

What is it that I am expecting from keeping this blog?

So I sit here, in front of this computer, and think for a minute. This blog started as a way to keep track of my goals and achievements with being healthier, losing weight, and bringing my various health issues into check. I realized eventually that there wasn't a whole lot that I could say that hadn't already been said. There are so many more people out there who have worked harder, and had harder problems to overcome. I admire them, but I'm just not in that category.

Eventually I changed it into more of an everyday recording of what I'm doing, mainly because of all the stuff that I do, and what my life is like at the moment. But where is the interest? What can I offer that isn't already out there? There are blogs about military life, asthma, cancer, special interests...where would I even start to put my roots?

I started this, hoping that some aspect of my life would reach out to someone, or just strike a note emotionally. While I'm not the sickest, or the most accomplished, or even have this really unique life experience...I still have something to give, some sentence that someone can relate to. I want a reason to write again.

So I'll keep going with this blog. I don't know if anyone will ever read it, or follow me (besides the three that do; thanks all.) I guess I just want my corner of this internet world, because my current one is so unstable.

Anyway. Moving on.

Not a whole lot physically going on here. I've been working more, and it's helping the restlessness that I'm fighting. Maybe it's not restlessness, it's more that I feel pointless being here. Mike's not, so why am I? Because we started a life here. Because all of our stuff is here. And because I wouldn't know what to do with myself back home, much as I might miss it. I would just feel restless there, too. The only difference would be the presence of many more family and friends, and less spiders.

I hate spiders. Hate, hate, HATE them. I walked into my bedroom last night, and saw one scurrying across the floor. About an inch in diameter, and it kept hiding behind some boxes and eventually Mike's computer tower. Because it hid back there (and also because I hate spiders and never ever want to be closer than I have to be), I retrieved Mike's machete (yes, overkill, I know), and killed the spider. I didn't stab it, I used the flat part of the blade to smack it, and it worked. I grab a little plastic shovel and scoop up the now dead wolf spider, intending to flush it down the toilet, and right directly behind me is another freaking spider...probably three inches big or more. The damn thing scared me so much that I dropped the other spider I was carrying. So, again, I grab Mike's machete and proceed to kill the (much) bigger spider. After, I scoop it's body up along with the smaller, and flush them both. And today I double cleaned my room, took away any boxes that spiders might be tempted to hide behind, and put all my shoes into a plastic box. And rolled up all the empty duffles that we have, and put those into a plastic box. Now I'm just working on organizing all of our other stuff, like the papers and random things that were left in the third bedroom.

Other than that, just trying to keep busy with work and such.