Okay, okay, I know this looks bad. Really bad, in fact. My place is a shambles and it looks like a herd of water buffalo just came through, but I'm organized and closer to moving out, I swear. Really.
Next time you hear from me, I'll probably be back in the castle. Unless it's before Friday. Bags, boxes, and my weight in packing tape are going with me for a lovely little 10 hour drive. Yep 10 hours, not 8. Apparently I don't drive as fast as my parents.
Ironic, I never opened the peanut butter jar. Just another change, I suppose. Here I am going back, and I can relate CC saying he's sad to go back. Work, and quite possibly a lot of stress in my future. Job anxiety is not good for me, and I think it took some hindsight to figure out just how much I hated my job. So here's to my luck and hopefully not going back to that job. Here goes nothing.
Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer
2 comments:
I know what you mean, I'm right in the middle of packing and my place is a complete mess too. I find its very bittersweet to be going back. It's hard to tell which life is real, the past 8 months, or the 18 years before it.
If you don't mind manual labour or if you're fluent in french, I may be able to help with the job anxiety. I can talk to my dad is you'd like, and see if he has any openings anywhere. Let me know.
No problems with manual labour, none. In fact, that's kind of the direction I'm leaning in.
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