We left for Mexico two weeks ago and have been back almost a week. It feels like a lifetime ago. For the past few days, “you’ve lost that loving feeling” has been playing LOUDLY in my head.

I’ve had an incredible hard time adjusting and it not just because it was beautiful, which it indeed was.

It seems so difficult to find joy in real life—I don’t mean happiness but quiet joy. E and I talked a lot about how they use to send women to the sea shore for a month as a cure for mental illness and I really think they should bring that back into vogue.

I would wake at six in morning and just go down and listen to the waves by myself and then E and I would climb over the rocks every night and watch the sun set. It was easy to feel whole. Why is that? How in the world can wholeness be translucent?

In other news: My writing was rejected from a major magazine today and I didn’t get the grant I was a finalist for. I spent the weekend with Honor Moore and learn a lot about myself and writing non fiction.

I also found out that my real life job most likely won’t let me go to AWP even though I am registered and I have a hotel…..does anyone want to wear my name tag and go to parties NAKED??????

I figure if I’m going to send in a stunt double, he or she should do stunts. I will be home, rewriting my resume and looking at two dimensional sunsets.