I've been in one spot for a really long time. Well, a really long time for me anyway. Typically eight months is enough time for me to feel antsy. After eight months, or two semesters or enough time for my friends to think I might make it a year without changing my cell phone number (always the number, never the phone...sigh) I'm ready for a change. It’s is odd, really, because I hate change. I don't merely hate change the way people hate cold weather and humidity, or hate the feeling of lint in their pockets. I hate change with a passion. I loathe it. I despise it. I dig my heels in to the dirt, stick my head in the sand and avoid it like the plague, yet every eight months or so I'm itching for a change of some drastic proportion; a new job or a new apartment or a new hair cut or some shift in the cosmos. Seriously, I start looking for the stars to appear red as if they started traveling towards us rather than away.
But it's been eight months since my car died and I moved home, and I'm not itching to change. If anything I've gone and dug my heels in to keeping my long term plan which presents very little room to change now but promises MASSIVE change in a year and a half.
I'm not sure what to attribute this shift in my personality to. I'm going to have to assume that it's a new found zealousness for the plans of my life, and that I've finally found a head space I'm happy in. Either that or there have been so many changes in my life that I’ve failed to actively notice. That’s probably more likely.
Song for the day: Tomorrow is Like Today by Guster
It’s a bit of an oldie, but it’s great.
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