clean

I purged my office today. I opted to do it on a Saturday, when no one else was around. A nice quiet exit, no fanfare. Everything I left behind neatly labeled, all of my personal effects (books, French press, calendar) boxed into my car.

I'm sitting at home watching The Mummy on a glorious Saturday afternoon. It's tempting to drive up to Lake Michigan, but I'm not yet to the point of driving an hour to sit on a beach full of strangers by myself. Might get there though; MP is on the plane to Italy for a month and Colette is busy, and I really ought to learn how to do for myself even more completely than I've learned to date.

I've learned it well. This week has been harrowing, somewhat, but I've had a lot of support. My sister even came up to visit me for a couple of days this week. And now that it's behind me I'm feeling kind of clean-slatish. I'm free to put away the anxiety and start over.

Of course I'm not always positive and yay-this-is-great. It's been hard. The dreams are still bad and still exhausting and I still wake up feeling like I didn't sleep. Occasionally I feel vastly lost. And whatever I do, I ultimately have to face it alone.

But that's not entirely true. Friends have been pitching in not just for moral support but to help me find jobs. I don't feel quite safe to believe it sometimes. It's always been simpler to go it alone -- or, at least, I've always done it alone. But I guess that's what learning interdependence is about. Maybe this is part of gaining a hometown? Because this is different from when I first moved here. I know some people now. I'm half-established. People are looking out for me, when I haven't asked them to. (That's the real kicker.)

And I'm hopeful. No matter what the day's been like, every time I pray, I lift my head feeling hopeful.

Now there's just to see what's next.