Sent to mental
I always get a little sentimental when things signal that it’s time to move. Whether it is moving to a new city, a new home, or a new workplace, I always get sentimental. I may not show it, but I do, I do.
If you ask me, I love this life now. I love what I do, even though it stresses me so much and I dream about it even during weekends. I love how life has been in the last three years. And I love how I’m even starting to like someone (never mind if he has no idea that I like him).
So this new “idea” that’s urging me to move is throwing me off balance. I will miss what I do. I will miss the guy (don’t ask anymore, please; it’s embarrassing). I will miss going to Starbucks at 2 a.m. And I will miss some of the fine people I’ve come across–people like G, whom I can run to any time I need help; G, who never loses her composure in the face of all the customer complaints (really now, grace personified); G, who makes small talk about babies and parenting; and E, who’s a lovely distraction. For years I steeled myself from forming friendships because I didn’t want to get too attached, but now I am, and I hate it.
I don’t know where this will go. I’m just playing things by ear for now. So while I do so and wait for the shoe to drop, here I am listening to Christmas songs because, well, who knows (only God does), I probably will be spending Christmas with a different bunch of people.
P.S. This could be PMS, but just don’t mind me.