i never have anything planned. no, no plans, i say. staying in, chilling out at home with the dogs and the husband, no big whoop, nothing to do, no places to go, no family to see, no movies to go to, no shopping trips, no friend dinners. we cocoon ourselves into our home during the winter which makes sense and everyone nods their heads, yes, yes, that sounds so nice, cozy time are the best times. but it's officially summer and somehow that answer is no longer appropriate but i give it anyway and then i feel bad. awkward. weird. i don't know how to have normal conversations.
my family is so far away. my friends are so far away. i know some ladies at my gym but they have car loads of kids and the practices that come with them. soccer. softball. kickball (is kickball a sport?) i have two little dogs who are perfectly content to burrow under the covers with me and binge watch bad television and a husband who can spend hours organizing and re-organizing the basement. i don't have plans and my life can feel so small and i wonder if i'm keeping it small on purpose. i don't know why since i know that safety is an illusion but the need to go and jump out of a plane is something i lost a long time ago.
i don't have any plans this weekend. i know the weather is supposed to be gorgeous.