Some days are just rough. Thursday was one of those days. Just enough things went wrong to bring on a stress headache that made me want to scream. So I focused on some positives: it’s been a whole pain-free week. My ankle seems to have mysteriously healed itself as curiously as it injured itself in the first place. Plus my coffee filters finally arrived. Gas station refills were not cutting it, and I miss dearly that strong steaming cup of joe in the morning.
Now I would like to say that I focused on the positives right from the start, but alas, no. There was a lot of internal swearing; sometimes not internalized after all. And the woe that seemed all-consuming then, seems well, less intense with distance and time.
The worst day of the season was followed with a smooth day; the kind of day you particularly appreciate after a bad one. I wonder if Thursday seemed so bad at the time because with just two weeks left, I want all the remaining days to be memorably good days. I’ve grown surprisingly attached to southern Illinois. I don’t know how people work field jobs for years and years. I’ve discovered a sentimental side to myself that I never knew I had. Moving around from job to job, I have a sense of freedom, but also a sense of loss every time I move on. Friendships forged with shared experiences now diverge in separate lives. A home, now no longer. I’ll be leaving with the same material stuff I came with, but with a life enriched, not just professionally but personally as well.
Who knew I’d fall in love just a little bit with this slice of the Midwest.
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