Where's Autumn?
I still don't know what's happening with my car. My insurance agent left her office early on Wednesday and as far as I know hasn't been back. Monday's a holiday, so the first I could hear anything is Tuesday. I hate not knowing.
I had a bout of happiness in the middle of the week anyway, but it's gone now. Yom Kippur killed it, being purposefully hungry cranky wasn't good for me. Usually I treat Yom Kippur as a day of enforced introspection, but I've been good about introspecting recently so I didn't really need it. Instead, it broke my good sleeping of the past few days. I had trouble getting up this morning. Odd dreams, what with my six-year-old human-tree-hybrid son. I really did love him in my dream, though, and that was kind of nice, even if his head was a tiny, solid green snake's head without eyes or mouth.
Today I had an interesting work experience. Apparently, there are other helpers about and one of them dug up some plants he shouldn't have, so Lauren called me in to put them back. She said I was good at it. So I'm gaining her trust and respect. She also had me working on some more landscaping things today, rather than just gardening, so maybe I can expand my hours to work more on that stuff. Ten hours a week really isn't going to get me very far. But I kind of like the schedule.
Even so, today I got a very strong urge to run away from Austin. I don't have the means, with my car maybe dead, and I've got things to keep me here (work and class). But I'm missing fall. I'm missing chilly days and chillier evenings. I'm missing the prettiness of leaves turning, crimson Japanese maples, the motley colors of Bradford pears. I'm missing yet another chance to sail with Gazela, something I never got to do. And, of course, I'm missing Ross, who is having more fun without me than he had with me (and I'm happy for him but jealous too and I really wish he hadn't been too busy to talk to me this evening). So, honestly, if I could think of some excuse to draw me east, I would go in a heartbeat. I keep trying to convince myself that now is not the time. For the kind of stuff I want to do, the time to go is in the spring. But that doesn't stop the ache.
The upshot is that I don't think Austin is ever going to feel like home.
I had a bout of happiness in the middle of the week anyway, but it's gone now. Yom Kippur killed it, being purposefully hungry cranky wasn't good for me. Usually I treat Yom Kippur as a day of enforced introspection, but I've been good about introspecting recently so I didn't really need it. Instead, it broke my good sleeping of the past few days. I had trouble getting up this morning. Odd dreams, what with my six-year-old human-tree-hybrid son. I really did love him in my dream, though, and that was kind of nice, even if his head was a tiny, solid green snake's head without eyes or mouth.
Today I had an interesting work experience. Apparently, there are other helpers about and one of them dug up some plants he shouldn't have, so Lauren called me in to put them back. She said I was good at it. So I'm gaining her trust and respect. She also had me working on some more landscaping things today, rather than just gardening, so maybe I can expand my hours to work more on that stuff. Ten hours a week really isn't going to get me very far. But I kind of like the schedule.
Even so, today I got a very strong urge to run away from Austin. I don't have the means, with my car maybe dead, and I've got things to keep me here (work and class). But I'm missing fall. I'm missing chilly days and chillier evenings. I'm missing the prettiness of leaves turning, crimson Japanese maples, the motley colors of Bradford pears. I'm missing yet another chance to sail with Gazela, something I never got to do. And, of course, I'm missing Ross, who is having more fun without me than he had with me (and I'm happy for him but jealous too and I really wish he hadn't been too busy to talk to me this evening). So, honestly, if I could think of some excuse to draw me east, I would go in a heartbeat. I keep trying to convince myself that now is not the time. For the kind of stuff I want to do, the time to go is in the spring. But that doesn't stop the ache.
The upshot is that I don't think Austin is ever going to feel like home.