The Messy Middle

Getting Unstuck from the Muck

Greetings, my friends,

It’s been a little while since I posted, and like last time, it’s mostly because life has been… a lot. So I thought I’d try something simple this time — a quick-fire update on where things stand. (Spoiler: it’s messy, but there’s still movement.)

• Work has been nonstop — I’ve just wrapped up the worst of my busiest time of year, and while I told myself that once this season was over, I’d be free to shift into trip-prep mode, things haven’t quite gone as planned. Now it’s the land of loose-end follow-ups, lingering admin tasks, and trying to figure out what’s fallen through the cracks in the meantime before someone else reminds me — and I’m having a hard time focusing.

• The trip to visit family got postponed — I was supposed to go last weekend, but the 36 hours leading up to departure turned into a cascade of everything going wrong. The assholes were at their ass-holiest. Murphy’s Law was in full force. The weather would’ve made for terrible driving conditions. And worst of all, there was an urgent vet visit. So I didn’t go. Now I’m headed that way in two weeks instead. That delay has thrown off my whole mental timeline — I had told myself, “Just get through busy season and that visit, then focus.” But now I feel stuck in a weird limbo.

• Ursula is injured, and it’s been heartbreaking — We don’t know exactly what’s wrong yet, but the vet suspects a neck injury (hoping it resolves itself before resorting to more expensive x-rays that require sedation). Ursula is usually a powerhouse — fast, agile, spring-loaded. She turns nine next week and hadn’t shown a single sign of slowing down… until now.

I always expected a gradual change, but this came on suddenly. She still wants to jump onto the bed, the couch, the car — but now she just… can’t, at least not very well. She tries but doesn’t have quite the oomph to clear the bed or the car without slamming part of her body into it and grabbing on for dear life to pull herself up. And she doesn’t want help. She yelps if I lift her from the front, and now even runs from me when I try. That’s never happened before.

I borrowed a ramp, but she refuses to use it. So she just sits on the floor and stares up at me, and it breaks my heart. I’ve already been feeling like I’ve neglected her more than usual lately — I’m not camped out on the couch at night as much, and she’s getting less lap time. Now I see her sitting there, wanting to curl up next to me, and with no easy way to do it.

I’ve been talking to her for months about this trip — telling her about the ocean, the mountains she’s never smelled, the adventures we’ll have. And now I’m worrying about her being safe and comfortable enough to enjoy them.

• The great purge is fully underway — I started selling furniture last week and have officially decided to part with almost everything. If it’s not coming with me, not deeply sentimental, or not irreplaceable, it’s going. All of the furniture — gone.

But this part is draining. Every item is a decision: keep, storage, donate, recycle, sell? If I sell it, then I’m writing a listing, dealing with no-shows and flakey strangers on Facebook Marketplace, and answering the same four questions over and over. Yes it’s still available. No I won’t take $5 for the thing I have listed for $100. Yes it still works. No there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m about 10 weeks from hitting the road, and it’s suddenly feeling very real — and very overwhelming.

• I’ve fallen off the health wagon hard — Somewhere in the chaos of work stress, travel delays, purging anxiety, and caring for Ursula, I lost my rhythm. I gained 11 pounds in three weeks (likely due in part to stress-eating every peanut M&M in the city that’s not nailed down). So now I’m working on climbing back on the wagon with the same care and intention I’m trying to bring to everything else right now.

• I fell out of the writing habit again — I had told myself I’d get back into regular posts once work slowed down and I got the family visit behind me. But when that trip didn’t happen, it didn’t even cross my mind to write. I’ve realized how easy it is to say, “I’ll write when the exciting stuff starts.” But I also want to be honest about this part — the lead-up. The doubt. The mess. The middle. This is part of the story, too.

• One very beautiful thing happened — Today, a relatively new friend — someone I’ve only recently gotten to know — sent me a photo of a carved wooden trivet she found on Etsy. It was a hand-carved chambered nautilus shell. Along with the picture, she wrote: “Your one blog made such an impression on me that I bought this from Etsy as a reminder.”

I was so moved to tears. That someone I barely know felt that kind of connection reminded me of part of the reason I’m doing this. And it gave me the nudge I needed to sit down tonight and share this update. So to that friend - thank you, your words made an impression on me too.

So here we are. This isn’t the pretty, polished part of the journey. It’s not exciting. But it’s still real — and it’s still mine.

I’ve been collecting notes and ideas for future posts — finally scribbling in all of the pretty blank journals I’ve hoarded over the years but barely touched — and the meatier stuff is coming. For now, I’m just trying to show up, one wobbly step at a time.

Thanks for sticking with me in the messy middle.

With gratitude,

Amy

P.S. I know I’m not the only one trying to show up even when things feel messy. What helps you keep going?