The more time passes the harder it is

Because the more time passes the harder it is, exponentially, to begin writing once again after a hiatus, I will spew a few words here to press the reset button, to finally in one confident stroke rip off the band-aid.

I'm sorry it's been so long. I was away, and even though the internet was accessible, I decided to take a break from my blog checking and writing. And so I declare with certainty that I, for one, am not addicted to the internet. I can do without for days on end. I can curl up with a book or a magazine, tuck my feet under me and feel cozy and (almost) totally satisfied with the day's reading material. I have no blackberry, no i-pod, no rectangular, vibrating, hand-sized device that absorbs my attention, and I feel happy that I don't have the need for one.

Or perhaps it's just that my need for abundance and drama has been fed through other channels of my life in the past few weeks. Things are changing. We are unofficially-officially moving to Belgium in late summer, and I'm going two or three times a day to stare at the little squares that mark out the days between then and now, between Philadelphia and something entirely different. The weeks don't seem like enough. There are still places on our list - day trips to do, city restaurants to sample, art galleries to peruse. And I'm looking at the little blank squares and thinking - Will it all fit?