In Chicago

In Tacoma, most days I go hours without being near another human being. One knowing my history might not think that’s the best idea, but [nothing I wrote here makes me sound any less crazy, so use this space to pretend I mentioned something really crazy, like eating toothpaste sandwiches or shaving neighborhood cats]. Since then, I told myself I should throw myself into groups of people and stop caring, which partially worked while abroad. Now I’ve made a complete turn around: I wake up, and either go to work on the slowest days of the week where hours pass without a customer, or knit by myself for a few hours, taking breaks to sit outside and read. I’ve slept alone for three weeks.

When taken from this setting and thrown into a conference of 800+, all musical, all women for godssake, when I’ve never been a huge fan of xx without a decent amount of xy, it’s quite an adjustment that I did not anywhere near make.

I love being with my cousins. They are the kind of family I’d like to have someday.

I don’t, however, like being forced to think about what I’m going to do once I grow up, which should happen sometime mid-May. I wonder if I actually want to do what I say I do, or continue to stay in an environment like the one I’ve adjusted to these past years and am reluctant to leave.