I'll be home for Christmas
My mom purchased a ticket for me to visit Arizona for a few days over the Christmas Holiday. I'll be leaving from work Thursday night and returning first thing before work Tuesday morning. I'm looking forward to that more than even I would've thought, but I know the time will absolutely fly by. I've been keeping busy recently, and I've been in good spirits. Probably a good part of that is because of the holiday season. I love this time of year. I attended a Christmas pageant with a neighbor-friend of mine about a week back, and that was enjoyable. There were a few choirs as well as a youth orchestra who were outstanding (except for one kid who was slightly overly-enthusiastic about *clanging* away on the bells.)
I arrived here 4 months tomorrow. I don't know where the time's gone. It feels like only a matter of days ago that I was sitting back in Flagstaff wondering when August 7th would arrive. I was so hastened to leave, I spent my last few months there not being able to enjoy any of my surroundings. I wished my time away. And now I'm here.. the place I desired to be for so long, and I feel foolish for missing anything back "home." I have to remind myself it was my own disdain and hurriedness that pushed me out here to begin with. I've settled into life here fairly well, but it's only been in the last week or so that it's actually dawned on me that I'm not here vacationing. I'm attempting to make a life in this place. I've managed to sort out residence, a job, friends, all of the things that make up the outward appearance of a life here. I'm just not sure how or when that happened. I mean to say.. I don't recall actually doing anything to suddenly find myself in this place. It was just a flighty idea one minute, and now four months later I wake up in a bed that belongs to me in a room that belongs to me in an apartment that technically is mine, and I'm bewildered by it all. I don't particularly recognize any of the things around me in my own home. I have a routine, and I do the things I do.. but I'm not sure why or how I fell into it. I'm not sure who I am, and day to day, I'm not sure who I want to be. I think I may be starting to figure it out though.
My life is strangely quieter and less complicated than I ever thought I was capable of being content with. As a matter of fact, I'm finding I'm happier the less stimuli surround me. I lay in bed each night with only a small lamp on the table beside me, reading by the dim light. The mornings are usually dark and dreary with only a single small light in each room. The apartment takes on this old candlelit feeling in the early hours of the morning as I get ready for work. No TV on in the background and if the radio plays, it's usually tuned to either the classical station or the Christian station which plays nothing but beautiful 1920s aucapella choral music. Both of which are on AM radio so the distant chattery static only adds to the feeling that I've somehow slipped back a few decades. It's chilly that time of morning, so the cats are usually curled up together in an attempt at keeping warm while I feel my way in the near-dark from room to room.
I've really taken to this. I'm just not sure where it came from or how long the fascination will last.
I arrived here 4 months tomorrow. I don't know where the time's gone. It feels like only a matter of days ago that I was sitting back in Flagstaff wondering when August 7th would arrive. I was so hastened to leave, I spent my last few months there not being able to enjoy any of my surroundings. I wished my time away. And now I'm here.. the place I desired to be for so long, and I feel foolish for missing anything back "home." I have to remind myself it was my own disdain and hurriedness that pushed me out here to begin with. I've settled into life here fairly well, but it's only been in the last week or so that it's actually dawned on me that I'm not here vacationing. I'm attempting to make a life in this place. I've managed to sort out residence, a job, friends, all of the things that make up the outward appearance of a life here. I'm just not sure how or when that happened. I mean to say.. I don't recall actually doing anything to suddenly find myself in this place. It was just a flighty idea one minute, and now four months later I wake up in a bed that belongs to me in a room that belongs to me in an apartment that technically is mine, and I'm bewildered by it all. I don't particularly recognize any of the things around me in my own home. I have a routine, and I do the things I do.. but I'm not sure why or how I fell into it. I'm not sure who I am, and day to day, I'm not sure who I want to be. I think I may be starting to figure it out though.
My life is strangely quieter and less complicated than I ever thought I was capable of being content with. As a matter of fact, I'm finding I'm happier the less stimuli surround me. I lay in bed each night with only a small lamp on the table beside me, reading by the dim light. The mornings are usually dark and dreary with only a single small light in each room. The apartment takes on this old candlelit feeling in the early hours of the morning as I get ready for work. No TV on in the background and if the radio plays, it's usually tuned to either the classical station or the Christian station which plays nothing but beautiful 1920s aucapella choral music. Both of which are on AM radio so the distant chattery static only adds to the feeling that I've somehow slipped back a few decades. It's chilly that time of morning, so the cats are usually curled up together in an attempt at keeping warm while I feel my way in the near-dark from room to room.
I've really taken to this. I'm just not sure where it came from or how long the fascination will last.
posted by Heather at 3:46 PM
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