It just dawned on me this evening that it’s fast approaching two years since I first moved here to London. Honestly, I have no idea how it’s gotten to this point.
I would say that the time has flown by, that it must have been an unexciting period and slipped past me with little heed, but the truth of the matter is that I have written 575 (!) blog posts since moving here (440 posts in 2008) that specifically indicate moods, feelings, traumas, and events both mundane and dramatic.
How is it that each day is so easily forgotten? How is it that the days pass so smoothly by, that I could so quickly serve such a period of residence without keeping successful track?
I imagine I’m going to have to read back over some of it, put together the pieces of my own story. Is this why I’ve been blogging all this time? Did I subconsciously know I’d have a puzzle to put together, one for which only time and nuggets of truth and information would allow a resolution? Cos I thought I knew me, and frankly, I’m not that bright.