|August: the beginning.|
It would be a bit of an understatement to say that August was a big month for us. It started in tears, on the road from Nacogdoches to North Carolina and it ends here, at my desk in my house in Wilmington, putting the finishing touches on my teaching plan for today's class. Crazy to think about all that can happen in just one short month.
|Birthday mimosas. Or painting mimosas. I can't remember. We had a lot of mimosas.|
In August, I said goodbye to a home I loved and started the never ending process of missing so many people. I made new friends and added about fifty people on Facebook. I turned 29 years old, celebrated the birthdays of people I had just met at the bar, ate at Flaming Amy's Burrito Barn three times and swam in the Atlantic Ocean once. I began graduate school, taught my first class of undergrads and started living the life the MFA dream.
I know it's trite and cliche and, as a future famous novelist (kidding) (not really) (oh god, please let me be a future famous novelist!) I should probably find a way to say this that is fresh and original, and yet: the last four weeks seem more like four years. When I consider the fact that I have been in Wilmington exactly thirty days, that it was only four weeks ago that we moved into our house and started unpacking (we're still working on that), that class just started last week, that a month ago I didn't know any of the people with whom I am now discussing writing and teaching and drinking - well, it sort of boggles the mind. In a good way. A very good way.
All of this is to say: August, you were a good month. An important month. A transition month. But I'm glad it's September. Because now I feel settled, I feel home and I feel ready to dive into the adventures that await me and live the life that I've chosen. Goodbye. Hello.