As I sit here in the nook of my kitchen, on the radiator warmed bench at eight o'clock in the evening on Thursday night, I know I should be packing. My intention for the evening was to make at least one trip over to my new apartment (yes, to those of you who know me, I am moving again) to transport some of the little things that I can fit in my pint-size vehicle. But when I got home from work, my stomach growling - reminding me I need to eat, I got out the leftover soup which is basically the last bit of food left in my refrigerator, and set it to warm on the stove. Immediately, the desire to bake biscuits to go with my dinner hit me. I found a recipe to reference, throwing together a mish-mash of different gluten-free flours to make this last-minute addition come to fruition. This week at work has been a little overwhelming, and trying to spend my evenings working to move my home... It really brings up the urge to bake! I get so much joy out of creating food, and somehow it is incredibly relaxing, so I tend to give in when inspired (last night I made cookies).
Now having eaten my delicious, purple soup (this is what happens when you throw all the vegetables in your fridge into a pot with some water and rice, and one of the veggies is a purple cabbage), and indulging in three gluten-free biscuits with lavender pear fig jam, I listen to the falling Splat! of the rain draining off the roof of my building, and the desire to go anywhere has vanished.
I really am looking forward to this new place; somehow I feel like this is some kind of "reset" button on my life, and I am excited to see what kind of changes come out of this new home.
I will, however, miss this view:
I guess I'll have to go running uphill in the morning to find my own view! Like this one: (unfortunately for me, the lot overlooking this section of Portland is now for sale - fortunately for the future home owner, there is an incredible city-scape laid out before the lot)
So tonight, at 8:38pm, warm, fed, and pretty tired, although deterred by the rain, I will make my trek. One small trip, if only because I promised myself that I would, and I know it will provide me a small sense of accomplishment (and avoid all those upset-at-self feelings).
How do you stay motivated when the rain has you down?
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, and welcome you to leave a comment below.
with joy, Alaina
P.S. As I wrote that last line committing to venture out in the wet, it started pouring. ...Where are my boots...?