Road Sister

Ooooooooooookay. So it's been a while since I posted anything. Finals came and went, the math one is most certainly a bad thing, but I've decided I don't care, I'm just happy it's over. I sat down and figured out how much I'm in the hole the other day. It's lame. I know it really isn't that much, but it's just enough to be unavailable and worrisome. Blah. I'm not sure what to do, and I'm trying to figure out where to transfer to next spring on top of it. It's related because until I get caught up on all my stuff I really can't afford to go anywhere. But I know for certain I do not want to go to SSU. And I want to go directly for a BSN, so the JC isn't really an option. *sigh* If I could choose anywhere I'd go to UCSF or Missouri. UCSF because it's fabulous and Missouri because I'd have a ready made home. Of course, this isn't necessarily so. Craig's friend (who has money invested in the house) doesn't want animals. Since I can't get rid of the furkids, I think I'm screwed. Ultimately, the issue falls on housing. I should be able to get into nearly any school, it's just whether or not I can afford to live wherever. Blah. And I don't want to live anywhere too uncivilized. Thanks to the Wise and Fearless Devorah, I've decided that area shouldn't be my first consideration, but I'm not moving to the South for God's sake. Ick.

So Friday I drove up to Humboldt State to have a look. It was fabulous, the farthest I've been out of town in ages. It was a mini-road trip, and I loved it. I belong on the open road. There is something that happens when faced with miles and miles of road stretching out before me. I physically and mentally leave the rut that I inhabit. On the road I find proof of life outside my small world, above, below, and beyond my schema of constant money fears, relationship crap, and uncertainty over my future. It's lovely. The destination is secondary to the driving, I savor every moment of exploring life outside my own. The most mundane tasks are new and exciting, each stop for gas is a chance to observe a foreign place and people. Anything different is beautiful. They are all nice places to visit, but I wouldn't want to stay. Sadly, this is how I've felt about Sonoma County since I moved back almost two years ago. On the road I feel at home again, back to the life I once had. I haven't really felt at home since then. I have had an innate dissatisfaction at the thought of living anywhere since I split up with K, nothing felt right. I came back here out of familiarity. Is that ever a good reason to do anything? I've done well for myself since I've been back, but I haven't stopped wishing I were somewhere else. Looking back, I think I've even wished I was someone else, the person I was before life came crashing down. But I can't go back.

Back in Oakdale I worked with a med-tech named Jay. He was ever so cool. He and I worked alone the night I learned it was really ending with K, the night I left a letter of resignation on my moron-boss Elden's desk. Jay had been divorced before and he talked with me before I walked out of wonderful little Oak Valley Hospital for the last time. I was afraid and unsure, beyond broken, and I had no idea where to go from there, what to do, anything. I was totally lost. He said that when it all ends you have to cling to the one thing you have left, and you have to make that your starting point. The one thing I had left was the same as what Jay had, years before; my mind. He threw himself into his education and built a new life for himself starting from there. I did the same, although I was so destitute at that time I had to work for almost a year before I could make it back to my education. It was always my goal though. And so I moved on. I put all of my energy into it, in fact. And here I am. I have a good (despite everything) job, a nice house, I'll be transferring into a 4 year college next year, and I'll have my first degree three years after that. Et voila! A new life. That night at the hospital with Jay I didn't know what to do because nothing felt good, nothing felt right. Jay showed me what I needed to do, how to move forward, and I did. But the part of me that nothing felt right to, that didn't really want any one thing is still there, and I never knew it until I was on the road the other day. The road shattered the walls of trivial, short-term worries and fears that comprise my little world. It opened my horizon, senses, and clarified my vision of myself, if only for a little while. Already I can feel the dullness of my daily life clouding back over. But I can't forget this, I mustn't. I have to find how to unlock the dormancy I live in today and have lived in for the past two years.