I hung all of our wall decorations this weekend. Family photos, framed dictionary pages, the print of the great white rearing back out of the sea in a hail of pepperoni pizza slices that Eric gave me [because he has exceptional taste]. I want everything to have a place of its own and a purpose. I’ve had these things boxed and bubble wrapped for years, waiting.
I spend a lot of time waiting—until I’m bigger, or older, until I have a house, or more time, or money. Until I know what I really want, or I’m more settled, or mature. I kept waiting to be ‘ready’, for my situation to not be temporary. It’s all temporary though, fleeting and beautiful. If not now, when?