Having not written here in nearly 6 months, I find it both ironic and telling that what I've got to put down now in words is very nearly the same as what I wrote last year.
But instead of struggling with forward motion, I'm pressing on.
After a lot of deliberation, I've decided to throw myself into the business of getting a job out of state. Not sure how long that will take, but it's time for me to make a home, put down roots, and for all that I love the people I know in Southern CA, I can't do it here. The economy won't let me.
There's some other reasons besides financial I want to move. I've never lived on my own before. As in, completely by myself. I need that. I CRAVE it. I'm an introvert, folks. If you don't know what I mean by that, it's mostly describing how I recharge my batteries. I need solitude for that. And living with a houseful of people has been draining. As a friend smartly pointed out to me, I've been living on my reserves for nearly a year, and that's not how a person should live.
So I need to go somewhere I can live on more than just dregs of solitude. More than just piecemeal relationships. Because I hold back out here. I don't want to stay, so I restrain myself from getting deep with people, so it doesn't hurt as much when I leave.
It might not be apparent to most people (not that anyone reads this anyway), but I've been seriously depressed for several months now. I don't like going out to do things socially, and as soon as I'm there, I want to fulfill my obligation and go home. That's not how to be a good friend. Not to mention the fact that I've had no direction for so long, I forgot what it felt like to be motivated, to want something enough to work towards it. I'd postpone things until I had to do something about them. Heck, I needed to think of a really good reason to get out of bed a lot of mornings. How sad is that?
So it's time. Time to change, time to find a place I can call my own. I'm 26, I should be able to be self-sufficient. And I'm not. Not by a long stretch.
If I spend my time fantasizing about getting my own apartment, being solely responsible for cooking/cleaning/etc, then you know you've got it bad. I'm not into typical feminine things, but I daydream about decor, and furniture arrangements, and how to make the place look grown up and lived in.
I'm giving away my stuffed animal collection and kid's DVD's. I'm looking at my books and belongings with an eye to paring down to fit into a new place, or whether I'll be able to buy new furniture.
I'm wishing for the day I can come home and make myself a nice meal, and not have to clean up someone else's mess before I cook. When I'll know what I have to make because I'll have stocked the fridge myself. I'll be able to set up the iron and watch tv at the same time and dress more professionally because I'll have room to deal with laundry in an adult manner.
Sounds lame, right? It kinda is. But it's a sign that my heart's desire is yearning for something more than just making do.
I want to move to a job at a university I can get my MLS in. I want to go back to school, and earn a degree that actually matters. I want to have plans for my evenings beyond sitting at home watching TV. I want to get deeper into my church and not feel like it doesn't matter what I do, I'm on the fringe because I'm single.
I'm a round peg in a square hole. I don't fit. There's too much space, and not enough me. I slip out, because I'm not supposed to be there.