Sunday, September 11, 2011

It has been 20 days since my last confession.

The beginning is always the hardest and, for all my trying, I haven't been able to begin a blog post... And so, I haven't been able to finish one. Every day I tick through a list of things that haven't changed or haven't changed enough to be exciting news for readers. I am also lazy and easily distracted.

My basil plant is dying -my sage and oregano plants are dead- and I have no idea why. I bought them, watered them, re-potted them and observed while they flourished for a week or two. Then, all my little plants lined up in a row in front of our sliding glass door started to brown and drop. I am the saddest about the basil, which I was using to make a kick-ass cinnamon tea. But also, when I watered the basil plant, the skin of my fingers would brush against the leaves and I'd have the scent of basil on me. It made me forget that I'd been in an apartment for endless hours; maybe I had just been in a forest?

Gah, I need to get a life.

We have been here for two months now, which is enough time passed to need to empty the vacuum cleaner and re-organize the fridge. It is also enough time to go through two boxes of popcorn. But it is not enough time passed to put away the GPS, have a girlfriend, or a desirable job. Two months is also not enough time so that when I walk by the halloween aisle at TARGET, I am not homesick for my parents' porch.

I've been feeling like a child here. My birthday is coming up and I'll be twenty-three*, which is nothing to anyone over forty, but honestly it's even more nothing to me. I know so little about functioning as a sure-footed adult in this world. Let's be honest, I don't know how to fill out a W-4 form; I'm pretty sure my days of being exempt are long gone.

Pray for me, friends. Think of me and only laugh a little when you picture me throwing pity parties in my pajamas. At noon.

*shameless birthday plug


  1. You speak the truth about the beginning being impossibly hard. There are so many blog posts I start, finish, reread and then delete because they sound stupid.

    McKenna, I pray for you everyday. Not like, "Dear God, help McKenna." Just like musings on you and your life and how much fun we had that one time doing this and I wonder what you're doing today. I think those thoughts and I know God is in them.

    Those are my prayers.
    I wish I could be there and hold your hand. Mostly for my sake.

  2. A. This makes me want to bring you plants to revive your spirit. And also to laugh when they die again (1/2 kidding).
    B. I told you I read your blog!*
    C. There's no shame in birthday plugs.

    *shameless self-gratitude for finally posting comments on your blog

  3. We are glad you are here :-) (But, I can't help with plants...they die at the sight of my face)! -

    Sarah :-)