Dear diary.

Post holiday malaise has set in already and I’m wishing I were anywhere but home again. It’s that bad that we already have plans to go camping this weekend with bears boy and my two.

I wonder sometimes if I were born into the wrong life because it seems like the more comfort I have in my life, the more I crave the bare minimum. I’d rather be out amongst the trees with nothing than hauled up in some pile with everything.

Am I mad? Does anyone else feel like this or am I just odd?

Today I’m thankful for my ability to travel. Without my car I would be housebound and miserable and I can’t thank Bear enough for buying her for me.

On that note, nanite friends. Xx

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