Mini-roadtrip begins tomorrow. I wish I had the technological abilities of Dervala and Adam Stein in order to properly document travels, but alas, I must resort to paper and pen. It will only be five days, but I am so ready to go on a Tori Amos-chasing roadtrip because, to quote a friend of mine, "It's the kind of thing sensible adults don't do." I hadn't really thought of it that way, but I'm fed up with being sensible, so that sounds great to me. The last couple of weeks, and really, couple of months, have been really stressful. And it's a different sort of stress. I was very stressed all the time in school, but I had somewhere to focus it - on getting the paper done, on getting the presentation memorized, etc. In school, I didn't sleep because I didn't have time, not because I was too anxious to close my eyes. Now, it is just an amorphous unsettled feeling - insecurity about money, about the future, about health and welfare of family and friends. Trying to provide comfort and support for our friend, our cat, during her illness was extremely draining, and losing her was even worse, and recovery from that is slow. It is also hard to balance a good job that provides good money, with the fact that it drains any energy that I'd like to devote to the things I'm actually passionate about. I feel like a catharsis is in order. It's spring, I have a birthday coming up, which always feels like a bit of a new beginning of a new year, and we are moving to a new home soon. I need to start writing again - a girl who was in a poetry class with me in college has recently published her first book, and I guess that has kind of made me realize that I'm wasting time here the more days I avoid writing and put off doing anything creative and expressive. Just because I have a day job doesn't mean that I can't have a self apart from it. So, here's to un-sensible road trips, moving away from cockroach hell, and having one raucous hell of a summer! Because it's about time.


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