Limbo

At work, I have a category for things I don't know what to do with.

I put them in a separate stack and put a big sticky on it that says "LIMBO". Then I chip away at them one at a time until nothing remains in that pile. It's a nice concept and it works for me.

(The fact that the same principle doesn't work when applied to our apartment continues to baffle me, but I'm sure I'll figure it out, given time.)


Lately the trouble seems to be that I am in the limbo pile myself.

I just don't feel like I'm moving forward. In any aspect of my life.

I sent an update to my Russia friends last week, and I honestly couldn't report anything exciting. It's such a let-down from before my wedding, because I was feverishly working toward this finite goal. Now I'm not-so-feverishly working -- plodding, barely-getting-by, trudging.