Long time, no nutso-Kateso

Eh, that was a very long break indeed. Things got a little – okay, a lot – hectic at work, I hovered on the depressive side of manic-depressive for a few weeks, and things just kind of went ape-poo for a while.

Also, I ate tainted peanut butter (see below), but I didn't eat as much as Paul. We were fine, as were all the other folks we know who were eating the same batch of peanut butter: a couple of my coworkers and Paul's research professor among them. On a tangent, who knew that so many of our friends ate so much peanut butter? And who knew they all bought Peter Pan? Sounds fishy to me.

I swear, I had a rough go of things for a few weeks there. Worked hard and late, came home, watched some Invader Zim or Forensic Files, crashed for a while, got up and did it all over again.

And while things aren't perfect yet (are they ever?), they're certainly looking up. They hired an editorial assistant at work to take over a few of my duties and allow me to focus on what I enjoy. I changed my title to "research analyst" to more accurately reflect my new role. My home away from home is still The Closet.

And my hubby and friends are great. My old CoH supergroup, which had more or less dissipated into a smattering of Canadians – there's a mental image for you – is slowly undergoing a revival. I've started taking yoga again. And I'm crash-planning an impromptu road trip to NYC in, well, less than two weeks now. It'll include a very short jaunt in DC, if you guys are interested in throwing rotten tomatoes at me in person.

You know, I think my general malaise and post cessation was caused in no small part by someone who made me feel quite inferior for not having a professional blog (read: corporate-owned, updated daily, full of journalistic blah-blah-blah). Not unusual, then, that the date I heard this person speak was the date my own posts started slowing. Ugh.

I've relayed that little tidbit to only two people – hubby and M. – and both responded in the vein of "screw that noise."

So be forewarned: It's not professional; it's just me being me. Just saying whatever the heck I want or need to get off my chest.

And now I want to say that I'm back. And it's the first time in a long time that this feels like home again.