“Transitions” is an irritating word. It should be reserved for things like group therapy and graduation speeches. But it really is the most accurate word for a week like this one as next week, the landscape will be much changed. Back to work, dog-walker, blogging in the morning, writing at night… It’s been a long time and I’m having difficulty easing back into it.
I am not taking advantage of this week as I once planned. The hours and days are slipping through my hands. I feel loose and distracted and scattered and happy. I’ve run out of coffee and I’m waiting for my second-to-last unemployment check before I can go to the supermarket (please, PLEASE let it come today). I’m stuck between my unemployed life and my soon-to-be-employed life and, to use a JK Rowling word, I feel splinched, a word Wikipedia helpfully describes as “being physically split between the origin and destination.” Even Wikipedia is poetic today.
I’m worried about Charlie, which is probably silly, but I haven’t really been apart from him on the regular since he got here. I’m flummoxed by the cost of dog-walking ($14 for a half an hour? Really?) and already I can see my new salary bleeding, which is probably a good thing. It’ll keep me from losing my head, once I no longer equate a check with guilt and self-pity.
See? Rambling. I’m in all directions today, this week, every day. I’ll get better, I promise, but until then… splinched.