It's funny. One day you're happy, dedicated to a promising career, and staying on top of your laundry. Then suddenly, the next day, even - you find yourself disoriented, pacing the aisles of Target at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and wearing the same polka dot Tommy Hilfiger panties you were on Monday. How come life is so messy? And why are your 20s so dang hard??
Hi. I'm B. Actually, I go by Brin. I'm a 20-something girl who, after years in the city, packed up and came here. To the sticks. To a creaky, 120+ year-old house with rambling rose bushes, broken windows, and a stuffed-up library. Ask me (as so many have) why I'm here, and I'll smile and say, "it's just where the wind blew me!". But we both know better. You and I know that I still have no idea why I left the city, my job, and my boyfriend and bought Freeman House. Or even what I'll do now that I'm here.
Maya Angelou says, "Surviving is important, but thriving is elegant." I like that. Matter of fact, I think I'll try my hand at this 'thriving' stuff. You know, just try it. If it doesn't work, I'll go back to surviving.
But first, I need to wash my polka dot panties.
