I'll Take That for Free

It's been quite a year to remember so far, and I have 38 minutes to recap before this public computer kicks me off for the entire day. It's pretty bad when an innate object tells you to get lost.

So here it is: my state of the union address. "Union of what?" you ask. Well, I haven't figured that part out yet. What follows is more of a fractured mirror reflecting the past eight months. The events are disjointed, yet there is a tie (namely my time on this planet unfolds in a linear manner). Blah, blah, blah.

Well, January was cold. I went to a church group dinner/Chic-fil-A Bowl party/New Year's celebration. The people there were not the problem. The timing of this event, however wonderful the company, chaffed me like a cheap sports bra. So, kicking the legs out from under a long story, I left about 5 minutes before the Peach was scheduled to drop on live television. I saw 2009 come in via watching the last minute blip over on my cell phone.

February was like 99% of the Februaries I've survived. Thankfully, it too was a short month.

In March, I decided to turn off my heater. When your apartment leaks the last remnant of warmth out of every window, all night long... you've got to put your foot down. And that I did. I pulled out my 15 degree REI sleeping bag and got reacquainted with the musty smell of a never-washed friend-of-sorts. It did keep me warm at night, but all illusions of coziness vaporized upon pulling myself out of the aforementioned sleeping bag to get ready for school. Oh yes, and I gave up hot water (except for the twice weekly shower) and electricity after sunset.

April is kind of a blur. I think I had two special shows in which I was required to display my students' artwork. Don't get me wrong here; I love that their art gets seen. It should be seen, as much as possible, by as many eyes as possible. It's just this: those art shows were joined at the metaphorical hip. Sleep was but a ignis fatuus.

When May rolled around, I was ready to be done with school. "The first year," they warned me, "can be rough." They were correct. I'm not a natural multitasker, so it was a stretch in all directions. I had become Skye the Starfished Person. Weary from lack of sleep, missing John, tired of grading papers, and ready to have a weekend of fun... June finally came knocking on my apartment door.

And that's when I moved out of my apartment. Poor thing didn't see it coming. I talked Jessica and Andrew into allowing me to turn their front yard into a marketplace. All my furniture, two fish, two kittens from Emily, many of my clothes, and myriads of sundry items were sold off to strangers.

Right after that yard sale, I caught a one-way flight to Seattle...