The Concrete Spider Web

If you've never been in Dallas, know that you are missing out on a serious civil engineering masterpiece/disaster center.

Roads on roads on roads.

In a ten mile drive, I can switch highways more than four times and have it take me over an hour to make the drive.

Other times, I can make a 30 mile trip in 30 minutes.

It's a death trap where I spend the majority of my time thinking, "THIS IS WHERE IT ENDS".

I am in Texas this time for a 3 week recruiting trip. Since last Sunday night, I've battled head on the pit of despair through the Dallas streets. Sometimes, it's nice. I have time to process the day and think.

Other times, my hands and heart sweat so badly that I can hardly think.

After a week of that, it was nice to have a break in the form of my husband.

Since I'm gone for so long, my university flew him out to me for the weekend.

Even though part of that was spent recruiting (what a champ!), it was also so nice to be able to chill, watch HGTG and FoodNetwork, and wander the DFW area.

Notable highlights in our shopping ventures were introducing Jay to World Market and Half Price Books.

He was just the cutest exploring all the different cultures and thinking up ways he could recreate all the different wood pieces.
Half Price Books was a perfect storm. Two nerds, together, and inexpensive books and nerd paraphernalia. We ended up with quite the haul.

Then, we grabbed a crepe together at a sweet little cafe called Frogg, and made our way to the airport.

It's not very nice to abandon your husband two months after you get married, but we are making it work. Texting is a beautiful thing.

When I get unstuck from the tangles of traffic, it'll be very nice to go home.

Wanting to Want

When I was in middle school, my brother drove me around a lot.
Technically, for the entirety of my life, my brothers drove me around a lot. Not even necessarily for my own purposes; I was just very portable and someone had to make sure I wasn't left running around falling in empty pool shells (again).

Middle school, though, was another chapter to my angsty growing up phase (it lasted most of years 8-21).

Chon always asked me how I was.
I always said, "Tired."

Once, on my way to somewhere--it was probably Haley's house, but along the far end of 91st street--he gave up and asked me if I was ever going to stop being tired.

In fairness, we found out months later that I'd had mono for most of my seventh grade year. Never missed a day of school or swim practice either (read: I was an exhausted punk but at least I was determined).

I think about that interaction often, though, because often I ask myself the same thing.

Was I always like this?

Was my college extroversion and GO GO GO nature a hiatus from my hibernative temperament?
Was my year of depressive sleep and darkness enough to suck away years of future waking?

I'm not unhappy. Actually, I'm very content.
But shouldn't I want more from life than naps?

At a certain point, you begin to wonder if this is a phase or if this is your life.
Because it feels as though no amount of sleeping or working out or joy or attempts to read and write can pull me back up to my former capacities to engage and devour language and pour my own language out.