It has been forever since I have written- August. It is now March. I have been down many windy roads since then. The past few days happen to be the more literal ones in Napa Valley. They always lead to the deeper ones.... ones I have not wanted to travel on. I still don't but I sit here typing in my hotel room, as Ray sleeps away the lazy afternoon. Someone is having a birthday party downstairs in the giant atrium. Music playing, people laughing.... the smell of food wafting underneath my door. Why do I feel so empty? Maybe I took too much Nyquil? Wish I could just pass out now instead of typing away.
This was a trip where we would drive around ( so we naively thought) figure it out, the waters would part.... all would be revealed. We would know more about where we want to live. No such luck... it back fired. We went to a beautiful restaurant last night with our friends. Very relevant, celebrity chef kind of thing. Beautiful place..... but it made me feel even freakier. I just want to cry as I write this- why am I happier at Panda Express/ what's all the hoopla?
I just want to roll around in the dirt, into a big fat cocoon until I feel so safe and all the bullshit and pretense slip away that I have walked into. Too much already beautiful Wine Country People. I get it life is perfect.....or you want me to believe it. Can't we all just groove down in our own way? I feel like I have no idea where I fit in, where I belong? That rolling around in the dirt thing seems so inviting- as long as there are no snakes slithering anywhere in my vicinity.
Maybe I will just snuggle inside one of my old man's snores, catch that wave out of town for now.
Until then.....
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