In addition to my writing, dancing, and running, I also thoroughly enjoy scrapbooking. I spent this past weekend with a dear friend and her family at her home about 90 minutes outside the city. Something I do fairly often, my weekends with them are filled with reflection, gratitude, and simple peace. They have become somewhat of a home away from home.
I have been scrappin' since college, and to date, I have over 20 albums. As my friend's 9-year-old daughter astutely pointed out, it's become more of an addiction than a hobby, yet I would not trade the memories those albums contain for anything.
The problem, however, is when I return to the city. Almost as if a curtain is being pulled over me as I get closer and closer. Why is it that I feel so much stress in the city that I love? Would things be different if I had someone to return to? Yes, I believe so.
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