Plot Notes: A New Perspective

I’m burning a Cozy Flannel scented candle and have eaten two chocolate mint chip cookies. I didn’t need the cookies at all, but this week has been the week of comfort food. I’ve spent my weekend organizing, cleaning, and unpacking my evacuation bags. Today is the first day in a week I’ve felt any peace. I’ve been chatting on Twitter about it, but in case you aren’t aware, California is on fire. That might sound a bit hyperbolic, but I mean, if you want to take the time to look up just the Tubbs fire and Atlas fire, you’ll get it. It’s all horrifying, honestly.

I started writing a a long description of my general terror, heartbreak, and my coping process, but… I don’t want to think about fire anymore. I’ve spent the last week being a total wreck. I don’t want to keep plaguing my mind with fires by writing about them here. Maybe I’ll write a post about it in the coming weeks, but that’s not what this post is for.

I sort of just want to take a moment to say how thankful I am for my home??? I know Thanksgiving and the time for gratitude isn’t until next month, but I spent most of last week thinking I was going to lose everything. Thankful is where my heart is right now. So yeah.

I’m thankful to sleep in a bed with a blanket that used to be my sister’s that I was so envious of when I was a little girl. To have a weeping mulberry tree in my backyard. The plain brown carpet I lay on when I’m bored. The paintings on the walls that don’t necessarily go together except for they all belong to my mom so they do. The deck we’ve spent nights on with the fire pit. The lemon tree that lets me make fresh lemonade entirely for free. The family room being so far from the bedrooms so my friends and I didn’t have to be silent when I had sleepovers. For my bedroom I’ve never had to share with anyone. For memories of my house being different than it is but it still being my same home. For the relief and comfort I feel inside it.

I’m thankful for the clutter. The marks on the walls and carpets from years of being lived in. The cobwebs I can’t reach and am too lazy to get a chair to stand on to dust them away. The nights I sobbed alone in my room from anxiety, heartbreak, school, and the weight of life. The kitchen cabinets overflowing with pots, pans, and glass mixing bowls. The silly stickers I put on my door when I was younger and now can’t get off all the way. The AC always being set to freezing and only needing to put on comfy clothes and slippers to escape the chill. The backyard riddled with weeds I’m constantly saying we should get a gardener to come take care of. The reality it looks more lived in than ready to be displayed. For having a home during all the times I dreaded coming home.

I’m thankful I still have my home when so many people have lost theirs.

It’s terrible that being filled with terror is what it has taken for me to really appreciate all I have, but here I am. I feel so lucky to be in my bed tonight, typing this post. I have so many thoughts and emotions in me right now I haven’t fully comprehended enough to be able to write out into some beautiful, emotionally charged piece, but I know I’ve at least come to appreciate what I have now.

The reality is that during any night in my life, it could be my door being pounded on at 2 a.m.. It could be me being told I need to get out now or I’ll die. It could be me racing to escape with flames on my heels.

Everything I have and love can be taken away from me at any second, and I won’t always be able to do anything about it. If that ever happens, I want to know I was grateful in the moment. I lived in the moment. I took advantage in the moment.

Like I said, maybe I’ll write a post in a few weeks about the fires, and maybe that one will be more dramatic and emotionally stunning. This is what I needed to say right now though.