I've been deep inside my pockets, thumbing through lost buttons and bits of french ribbon. I haven't been exploring much of anything around this city. New York was just about enough "new" I can handle about now. I'm am back to my constantly mundane and normal ways.

Change has been persistently knocking at my door, and despite my best efforts to keep him at bay, He won't leave me be. He doesn't seem to understand any part of "no thank you". I've taken to reading horoscopes and dancing with metaphors because right now, mother earth, is reaching from the depths of her winter slumber and grabbing at my ankles. I can quite decipher her efforts. Whatever they are, I've been nothing but faithful in my ignorance and have put almost all of my faith uncertainty.

The Worry is back, I can't say I've missed it much. It's the little bit of me that I don't mind being without. It's infiltrated the little things - like if I said goodbye the right way or if I'll remember the way the music sounds when you are in the room. This time the worry has held the fun and giggles and my regular ways captive.

For the time being there will be stories; stories of the things I remember just the way I remember them.