I've got the funk.

I have been in a funk. A total funk. I don't know if it is because this is becoming so real or if it is just a funk.

found on Pinterest
Funk.
Funk.
Funk.
FUNK. FUNK. FUNK.

It's been an interesting couple of days. Did I mention I was in a FUNK?

I look around my house and all I see is stuff. Which is normal, right? I mean, I own a house: I have stuff. I keep reminding myself that I would like to live more simply. Not be attached to my material items and just take my camera and see the world.

Or do I?



I find myself going through my closets and saying "oh, I couldn't get rid of that", "I'll need that when I move back", "so and so gave me that, it means something". Then I think: Isn't the whole point of this to get rid of stuff and to live more simply? Then I beat myself up for being so attached to things. Then I look at the double crock pot in my linen closet and think: That's small enough--no on will ever know. 

Sigh. Add to the funk.

What do I take to Japan? I have read every blog, article, and Google search result I have found. Some say take this, some say take that, some say don't take anything! Less is more! Well, if you mean less like I don't need to wear clothes, that would make my life easier. However, seeing as I am 6'1'' and doubt they have clothes and shoes that fit, I am stuck figuring out what is going to be sent early and what is going to be taken with me. On top of it all, figuring out what I need for work clothes and what I need for regular clothes.

Sigh. Add that to the funk too.

I left Great Falls in the late afternoon on September 1, 2011. I left Joe, one of my very best friends there while my Dad and I trekked the 10 hours through the mountains to my house in Caldwell.

I cried for the first five hours straight.

As I sit here right now typing this, I am getting choked up thinking about it. Damn you Joe! Finally, five hours later, my Dad looked at me with a pitiful look at the rest stop and said "Are you going to be okay?" in one of his most sincere voices (which doesn't come along too often. My dad is a has a very dry and sarcastic tone--for him to ask me how I am comes few and far between so I knew my tears were wearing out their welcome.)  Two sniffles later I pulled myself together and just stared out the window. Without getting into gory details, I am going to miss my friends here.

Add that to the funk, and as you can tell: I have got some FUNK.

And this week the funk isn't cured by any amount of dance parties, writing, or sleep. It's just a funk that is going to have to pass. As Karlen would say "You have to honor the funk for the funk to pass." So here's to you Karlen, I am honoring the funk.