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Jan. 22nd, 2013 05:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariThere's an air of finality that shadows most everything I do these days. A "this may be the last time you do X in Seattle" or "this may be the last time you see Y in Seattle" feel.
In all my moves - To and from Pennsylvania, and to Seattle - there's never been that feel of finality. The move to Pennsylvania was a last minute "LET'S GO NOW" affair, where I didn't miss anything until I got there. The move back to Pennsylvania, and the move to Seattle, were more moves where I was going to something better. Coming back from PA, the move was Dean and I saying "We are as good as we can get here in PA. Let's be better in TX." And, for the most part, we were. The move to WA was to make a new future with a fiancee....
But the upcoming move from Seattle to Texas has a feel of defeat to it, and going home feels...sad. The new life with my fiancee not only didn't happen, the whole relationship imploded spectacularly. Then there was the diabetes diagnosis...and while I've mostly beaten that back, the battle never ends. The only saving grace was getting work for Nintendo, and while Nintendo is the best place I've ever worked...it's becoing painfully obvious I won't be hired before the end of my lease. The dreary cold wet foggy and frosty weather isn't helping much with that mood, either.
My time here in Seattle was, in general, a gratingly iritating experience. But even with those strikes against it, going home feels more like a retreat than a homecoming. I should be happy that I'm going back to my home, with it's fabulious Mexican food, myriads of friends, the Texas Hill Country, oppressive yet energizing heat, thunderstorms and drivable freeways. And yet, when I think of going home, I think it's because I failed.
Usually when I hear that from a friend, I'll say "What's a hero to do when he's lost the big one? Win a few of the small ones." I wish I could focus on the small picture myself, sometimes.
(Oh, sure, brain, dwell on today, instead of on 2001-2004 where it could at least be productive for the book....)
In all my moves - To and from Pennsylvania, and to Seattle - there's never been that feel of finality. The move to Pennsylvania was a last minute "LET'S GO NOW" affair, where I didn't miss anything until I got there. The move back to Pennsylvania, and the move to Seattle, were more moves where I was going to something better. Coming back from PA, the move was Dean and I saying "We are as good as we can get here in PA. Let's be better in TX." And, for the most part, we were. The move to WA was to make a new future with a fiancee....
But the upcoming move from Seattle to Texas has a feel of defeat to it, and going home feels...sad. The new life with my fiancee not only didn't happen, the whole relationship imploded spectacularly. Then there was the diabetes diagnosis...and while I've mostly beaten that back, the battle never ends. The only saving grace was getting work for Nintendo, and while Nintendo is the best place I've ever worked...it's becoing painfully obvious I won't be hired before the end of my lease. The dreary cold wet foggy and frosty weather isn't helping much with that mood, either.
My time here in Seattle was, in general, a gratingly iritating experience. But even with those strikes against it, going home feels more like a retreat than a homecoming. I should be happy that I'm going back to my home, with it's fabulious Mexican food, myriads of friends, the Texas Hill Country, oppressive yet energizing heat, thunderstorms and drivable freeways. And yet, when I think of going home, I think it's because I failed.
Usually when I hear that from a friend, I'll say "What's a hero to do when he's lost the big one? Win a few of the small ones." I wish I could focus on the small picture myself, sometimes.
(Oh, sure, brain, dwell on today, instead of on 2001-2004 where it could at least be productive for the book....)
