I am sorry.
I used to blog in English until January but then I stopped. To be honest the only reason has been my family.
Some of you contacted me privately and not, asking me where the hell I was, if I escaped to Cuba or got in one of those relationships of mine no one knows to keep it safe.
None of above, circa.
From early this year (in case some skipped some Tweets), my life has been a mess. It all started when my family decided to renovate a small place to rent and then it extended to another one. The thing is that when your parents take such decisions and are divorced as well, you are the one who ends up doing all the dirty job to keep some peace. Otherwise, hell breaks free.
So, beside being busy with my job as an author, starting Wild/Queen and multiple writing experiments using pseudonyms (all online bestsellers without promo… wtf), from January to half July I ended up in a sort of void of cement, furniture, bricks, etc etc.
When late July came by, I was a zombie. Literally. The funny part was that I repeated to myself this: “Thanks God, now I have August free.” Ahahah, no.
Because destiny has always a bastard way to destroy your expectations.
So all of a sudden, without being ill, my uncle died. My only one to be more precise. Not many knows it but I always have been alone: no siblings, no cousins, just a very single uncle who lived in my grands home (which always belonged to my mother as well). No other people to rely on, no strong men, no one except my mom who is a good one but also more like a blonde-blonde like old style Ella Wood.
With a simple call, every expectation or plan until December disappeared and I got back into the same void, plus-sized. In Italy bureaucracy is an hell, for real. Beside the costs, if someone dies there are tons of documents, tons of offices to visit, tons of drama. Even for the simplest things.
To add more stress to this (and painkillers), there was my old grands home. 2152.78 sq ft inside and same outside Italian style, so apt. Picture this: you, 35, entering in a home where you lived until 20 years before, where every single thing has been kept exactly in the same place you left it. BUT to it, add also 20 years in which it has been occupied by a man (you adored) but who didn’t mind much to keep it tidy. As my bestie Connie calls it: the Horror House.
In the last 3 months, since I do all by myself (Barbie-mom, remember), I threw into the crash something like 100 big giant bags, 22 balls of ivy+4 trees pruning from our garden and thanks to a specialized company we got rid of 30 pieces of old furniture (we still have many). I did all by myself from gardening to masonry work, from moving furniture to hydraulic.
And all this is still on. Still happening. From bureaucracy to maintenance, beside grieving… because I still am.
However, when you are alone due the lack of family members, destiny or some curse, you stfu and fix stuff, doing it 200 times without help.
I hope this post will once and for all explain that I didn’t disappear because of some romantic drama like in a movie, but because life is biting my bottom.
Wish I was in Cuba, in some Hawaiian Island taking selfies of my ass or L.A. but I am not.
And, uh oh. I have a book coming out next week, then another and another. I will sleep, eventually.
Yeah, I need an alpha in my love-life… just like me or stronger.