contemplation 64
oh yes pico let's start off the day right
(Well, in the night I did have dreams which were acceptable: a bunch of undead folks trying to survive again undeads who weren't nice at all, and then not one but two dudes in succession trying to set up dates with me at a sort of craft fair bus stop, I know, what?)
I have a whole bunch of thoughts swirling at me:
- with the coming of spring, I'm confortable here. I like it well enough. It's been so long since I've done aught else that it's hard to imagine
- ifwhen I go back, it feels like it'll be jumping into a life of Find your Own Place and restarting the whole Build Your Own Life from the beginning
---- even though I know it won't - I'm friends with my parents friends - plenty of folks - and I still know some younger folks in the area, and I know it's possible to get to know and meet more
---- and you know very well you can live with your parents Until, and after you can hang out lots
- when I think of back home, I think about the pace, too: the pacing is different
---- have I gotten too used to living in a city?
---- DC is a friggin stupid city to say "quiet" about, Pico, shut up, that's why you like the place
---- is this bad?
- I know what's coming in the fall. In the fall, consistently, every year I've been here, there's been a dip-down in general overall mood. Despite the upswing in business, inthe fall I get homesick.
- there's days when I'm comfortable here
- there's long times when I'm overall fine here
- but shut up, Pico, you're journaling in English, you think in English first, you're happiest in your writings and books in english.
- dear People Who Want To Hire Me: please give me a job where I get both of these
I don't like overcontemplation.
But I also don't like the idea of abandoning and completely leaving a home. I don't like the idea of packing up and away all my books and clothes, of deciding who gets which plants and picture-frames, of giving my things back to Patticakes to return to her Situation Room full of loanables to her little organization of religious nuts who come over to Convert These Poor Wandering Misguided Heathen Souls. I don't like the idea of bare shelves and my kitchen not being my kitchen anymore.
I don't like the idea of leaving a home.
I guess it's a thing that happens.
Musica (my choir) will be here until the majority of its members graduate in Spring 2014. But I'm fairly sure I don't want to wait that long, because if I do? I'd be here for 5 more months of winter.
It's a comfortable job. It's an iron rice bowl.
I'm ready, but with trepidation, to do something else.
But I'm not looking forward to the goodbye.
(Well, in the night I did have dreams which were acceptable: a bunch of undead folks trying to survive again undeads who weren't nice at all, and then not one but two dudes in succession trying to set up dates with me at a sort of craft fair bus stop, I know, what?)
I have a whole bunch of thoughts swirling at me:
- with the coming of spring, I'm confortable here. I like it well enough. It's been so long since I've done aught else that it's hard to imagine
- ifwhen I go back, it feels like it'll be jumping into a life of Find your Own Place and restarting the whole Build Your Own Life from the beginning
---- even though I know it won't - I'm friends with my parents friends - plenty of folks - and I still know some younger folks in the area, and I know it's possible to get to know and meet more
---- and you know very well you can live with your parents Until, and after you can hang out lots
- when I think of back home, I think about the pace, too: the pacing is different
---- have I gotten too used to living in a city?
---- DC is a friggin stupid city to say "quiet" about, Pico, shut up, that's why you like the place
---- is this bad?
- I know what's coming in the fall. In the fall, consistently, every year I've been here, there's been a dip-down in general overall mood. Despite the upswing in business, inthe fall I get homesick.
- there's days when I'm comfortable here
- there's long times when I'm overall fine here
- but shut up, Pico, you're journaling in English, you think in English first, you're happiest in your writings and books in english.
- dear People Who Want To Hire Me: please give me a job where I get both of these
I don't like overcontemplation.
But I also don't like the idea of abandoning and completely leaving a home. I don't like the idea of packing up and away all my books and clothes, of deciding who gets which plants and picture-frames, of giving my things back to Patticakes to return to her Situation Room full of loanables to her little organization of religious nuts who come over to Convert These Poor Wandering Misguided Heathen Souls. I don't like the idea of bare shelves and my kitchen not being my kitchen anymore.
I don't like the idea of leaving a home.
I guess it's a thing that happens.
Musica (my choir) will be here until the majority of its members graduate in Spring 2014. But I'm fairly sure I don't want to wait that long, because if I do? I'd be here for 5 more months of winter.
It's a comfortable job. It's an iron rice bowl.
I'm ready, but with trepidation, to do something else.
But I'm not looking forward to the goodbye.