They say the first step is admitting it...Well, I've moved back to Guyana

An odd twist and turn of events, let me assure you.

Life, as the old mantra goes, occurs while you're making other plans. Well, 'Life', I find your particular brand of fatalistic nihilism to be somewhat pedantic. Life, you can consider this an open letter. I know we've had our ups and downs, but I've enjoyed you for the most part.

Sometimes you were a bit needy. Occasionally you were inexplicably needy. Like those years where I was constantly hungry, eating like a ravenous sow. According to a certain woman whose womb I've lived in, this started when I was the tender young age of about 8 minutes. So I present now a sarcastic Thank You, Life, for this dietary dichotomy of thinly veiled gluttony and Calorie burning superpower.

Since my last post, much has happened, Life. But of course, you know this already, do you not? As you sit idly, watching me experience you from your tacit throne.

In an odd and convoluted time, you threw me into a tailspin. In a good way, of course. As we approach the one year anniversary since I've written anything in this blog, we also approach the one year anniversary of when you really dropped a bomb.

Remember when my Grandpa died? That was kind of a dick move, Life. I know it happens, yet I still maintain that you were being a bit of an ass. Reeling from that, you throw down the gauntlet. You let me get all settled into this groove, prepared to fully dive into the final months of my Volunteering gig. 19 months down, 7 to go. I was cocky about it.

And that's when you did it. You released the Kraken, so to speak.

You made me fall in love.

Fast approaching one year since you pulled that little stunt, Life.

I didn't see it coming at all.

Which gives our dear reader a impossibly consolidated version of the past year, and the main reason why I'm now back in Guyana. And wouldn't you know it? I've got stories to tell. So, Life, you can sit in the backseat for awhile. In the meantime, readers, I'd like to reintroduce my particular brand of literary lunacy, and engage once again into what I fondly call:

An Excursion Into Whimsy