Hitting the Reset Button
I've been looking forward to this: a new beginning, a fresh start, an opportunity to hit the restart button.
In some ways, it feels like the time to make the ultimate New Year's resolutions...
I've looked into gym facilities... the equipment in my apartment complex, the school facilities near by, the classes they offer, and the Irish Dance club. I've been able to practise pilates and/yoga three days running. I've found a bank, cell phone, long distance plans... My fridge is full of healthy foods and I'm wearing my sunscreen.
I've even started to get up at a respectable hour...
My walls are white, my closets mostly empty... none of the furniture in the room is familiar to me. I await my shipment of belongings (praying types... pray that it actually reaches me, undamaged, and without extra fees). I have mixed feelings about the emptiness of my room. In oh-so-many ways it's lovely to have the blank slate. But I currently lack a lot of items... like a laundry hamper, garbage bin, the books I need, or more than a weeks' worth of clothes. I both anticipate and dread the moment it all arrives and I have to deal with it again. I don't welcome the stress nor the time I'll have to take out of my increasingly busy schedule in order to unpack and organize, but I relish the idea of finding a place for everything... praying that there will be a space for everything.
I'm enjoying the quiet of the day... My roommate is still busy with work from the lab, but things have only barely begun for me. I have roughly a dozen acquaintances and friends who have been so supportive already. Placement tests (yes, more theory exams) begin soon, so I'm half-heartedly reviewing but I'm also resting... from a summer that was pure chaos of some of the best things and in anticipation of a year that is said to kill.
I welcome this chance to begin anew in a new city with my happy pills. My problems settling in Victoria were larger than myself. As much as everything feels new, I am acutely aware of the things from my past that I carry...
Today I had the overwhelming need for Canadian news... I'm in a country whose politics I only vaguely understand, but I feel the need to listen to the TSO play for a state funeral for a man that most of my colleagues here are not familiar with.
When things go wrong with shipping and borders, i don't call home crying... not because it's not a pain nor because it is not stressful -it is all these things- but because I know that it's not my fault, has nothing to do with me, and my mom can't fix it. I'm sure that one day soon I'll crack and need to cry to mom, but for now I have the assurance that I might not be able to fix things either, but I can handle things. I can fill out the forms, write the emails, and make the phone calls. I can wheel-and-deal (sometimes better than my parents) and, even though the broker treats me like I'm 12, I carry a wealth of experience for my 27 years. This is not the first time I've done this. It's not even the second. Third time is the charm, I guess. And more than ever before, I really feel that God has come before me. Not that he hasn't before, but that I feel it in a very tangible way.
I may have to write more theory exams to prove myself... I may be frantically trying to track down some of the same furniture and household items I've had before. I'll likely even find myself in courses similar to ones I've already taken. It's a weird blend between everything being new and yet the newness somehow being the same.
And I'm ready.
In some ways, it feels like the time to make the ultimate New Year's resolutions...
I've looked into gym facilities... the equipment in my apartment complex, the school facilities near by, the classes they offer, and the Irish Dance club. I've been able to practise pilates and/yoga three days running. I've found a bank, cell phone, long distance plans... My fridge is full of healthy foods and I'm wearing my sunscreen.
I've even started to get up at a respectable hour...
My walls are white, my closets mostly empty... none of the furniture in the room is familiar to me. I await my shipment of belongings (praying types... pray that it actually reaches me, undamaged, and without extra fees). I have mixed feelings about the emptiness of my room. In oh-so-many ways it's lovely to have the blank slate. But I currently lack a lot of items... like a laundry hamper, garbage bin, the books I need, or more than a weeks' worth of clothes. I both anticipate and dread the moment it all arrives and I have to deal with it again. I don't welcome the stress nor the time I'll have to take out of my increasingly busy schedule in order to unpack and organize, but I relish the idea of finding a place for everything... praying that there will be a space for everything.
I'm enjoying the quiet of the day... My roommate is still busy with work from the lab, but things have only barely begun for me. I have roughly a dozen acquaintances and friends who have been so supportive already. Placement tests (yes, more theory exams) begin soon, so I'm half-heartedly reviewing but I'm also resting... from a summer that was pure chaos of some of the best things and in anticipation of a year that is said to kill.
I welcome this chance to begin anew in a new city with my happy pills. My problems settling in Victoria were larger than myself. As much as everything feels new, I am acutely aware of the things from my past that I carry...
Today I had the overwhelming need for Canadian news... I'm in a country whose politics I only vaguely understand, but I feel the need to listen to the TSO play for a state funeral for a man that most of my colleagues here are not familiar with.
When things go wrong with shipping and borders, i don't call home crying... not because it's not a pain nor because it is not stressful -it is all these things- but because I know that it's not my fault, has nothing to do with me, and my mom can't fix it. I'm sure that one day soon I'll crack and need to cry to mom, but for now I have the assurance that I might not be able to fix things either, but I can handle things. I can fill out the forms, write the emails, and make the phone calls. I can wheel-and-deal (sometimes better than my parents) and, even though the broker treats me like I'm 12, I carry a wealth of experience for my 27 years. This is not the first time I've done this. It's not even the second. Third time is the charm, I guess. And more than ever before, I really feel that God has come before me. Not that he hasn't before, but that I feel it in a very tangible way.
I may have to write more theory exams to prove myself... I may be frantically trying to track down some of the same furniture and household items I've had before. I'll likely even find myself in courses similar to ones I've already taken. It's a weird blend between everything being new and yet the newness somehow being the same.
And I'm ready.