tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3854240.post-66169488652680477872007-05-09T14:11:00.000-04:002007-05-09T14:55:31.810-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_flCbO0MdOR8/RkIQGERyHOI/AAAAAAAAACU/Z_laAUEaf74/s1600-h/DSC05243.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_flCbO0MdOR8/RkIQGERyHOI/AAAAAAAAACU/Z_laAUEaf74/s400/DSC05243.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062626627531447522" /></a><br />This is my new view. The 14th floor. Every morning I wake up to the sound of banging, sawing, and men yelling in deep voices. The first morning was terrible. Now it's more pleasant to wake up to the sound of a condo being constructed than it is an alarm clock. And this is how it will be for the next four months.<br /><br />I have moved in with the boyfriend. It is a temporary summer gig, but one I still find jolting. Odd, given that I spend five days out of seven with him. Another life lesson, I suppose. I still have much to learn about many things. There is however something intensely comfortable about always having a warm body next to you and feeling excited when you hear keys in the door. <br /><br />I have also started not one but two new jobs. Sweet jobs. Money jobs if you will. If you're a librarian, academic libraries is kind of the sweet spot. And I'm in two of them this summer. <br /><br />Good for me. But. Change is still difficult. Even if it's positive. <br /><br />You know how sometimes bad things will get you down and you'll feel so crappy that you will sleep for 12 hours because it means less time facing the day? It's even worse when these feelings and actions surface when no bad thing has happened. In fact, good things have happened. Yet I start to worry. I start to fret. I wonder why I'm not the cool confident cat that everyone thinks I am/used to be.<br /><br />And then for some reason, amidst the sea negativity I think about writing. I read about writing. I write. Then I feel better. This is how I prevent myself from going postal. This is my release. This is how I figure stuff out, and know that everything will always be okay. Why do I always forget this? <br /><br />Since September, school, work, and life have conspired to prevent the timely release of Junicus. No more. My fingers on the keyboard will be louder than the banging outside.Junicushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03929204407535913761noreply@blogger.com