It's all about the smell of a good merlot.

Two years ago, I didn't know the difference between grape juice and wine. 

Today I pretend to know the difference.

But there is one thing I will admit. I savor the sensation of a deep red wine when I'm in the mood for it. Generally that mood comes after a long day where I'm burned out, exhausted, or just whiny. I don't know that I even like the taste of it, but I love my physiological reaction - the calmness - that the smell of red wine induces. Sigh. Merlot. 

That, and I love buying wine for its packaging. I judge a bottle by its label, just like books. Tonight? Little Black Dress. How can any girl turn that one down? 

I'm trying to figure out where I am in life. I have a great job, but it's not fulfilling. I'm fundamentally lonely for the first time I can remember. And I can't seem to stay busy enough to forget about it. I'm also making mistakes like reading books that remind me to reflect.


Let's be real. Reflection is scary. 


And starting a yoga-rific path, complete with some holistic healing, eating, and attempted lifestyle; yep, that's right up there with reflection. Doesn't do great for hiding within. So I'm ripping off the bandaid slowly, and curious to see what lies beneath.


Don't get me wrong, my life is great. I have great friends, a great family, a strange but wonderful other half, a stellar job that's a bit too much for this point in my life, and the means to enjoy them all.


And yet, I want more. 


There's got to be something wrong with me, other than it's Friday night and I'm so caught in my head I'd rather be writing than out with those fantastic people mentioned above. Get it together girl, get it together.


I think I'm learning that sometimes you have to fall apart to be put together.