Whew - don't even know where to begin with all the emotional dookie from the summer that has hit the proverbial fan that was switched on two weeks ago when Hannah said she wasn't moving back to Alameda. The fear of having one more place in life where I felt isolated left me in tears minutes before the party that would ring in my 29th year. Andrew's return to LA, Becky's move to Bozeman, and two more fall-through-at-the-last-minute Craigslist job connections left me a bittersweetly self-righteous mix of melancholy and pissed off. And a mind-numbingly boring week at work had me questioning which of my options (gainful employment or lack thereof) was the lesser of evils.
My rubber-band-like personality began to make itself evident. I re-shape easily, and it takes quite a bit of change to stretch me far enough that I actually act on the urge to spring back. In the past, I've sort-of gone sling-shot style: quit jobs, cut ties, left town for a while or for good. I think I need to figure out how to regularly take the pressure off the band so it no longer feels the need to snap, which may be a more viable long-term solution.
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