I woke up in my big, lonely, comfy-as-a-womb bed this morning with a split second thought of "Where the hell am I?" Most likely because I was dreaming about Moreland Hills, OH, and it was all too real. Most likely because you were in my dream and you live in New York. Most likely because You weren't in my bed when i opened my eyes and, well, you usually are.
It never fails, every 6 months or so I get the itch, an itch that tells me I shouldn't be where I am, that there's another place with a better life waiting for me...somewhere. This way of thinking comes with the good and comes with the bad. The good being that I can say I've lived in and visited places all around the world and across the country. Australia, France, Sweden, Austria, Switzerland, Chicago, Ohio...you think the itch would have been scratched by now. The bad being the anxt that comes from such a feeling. The feeling that you don't belong where you are and where you've been for most of the last 5 years of your life.
But...."Where ever I go there I am".
Church helps, a boyfriend helps, an abundance of good friends helps, a steady job probably would help if I had one...ah what a wrestless soul I have.
I haven't been in Chicago 12 straight months and already I'm thinking about up-rooting again. Not any time soon of course but definately before this time next year...
