A couple weeks ago I made what felt like a random and impulsive decision: I bought a plane ticket for an 8 day trip to New York. Three of my closest friends from college will all be in the same place at the same time (which doesn't happen too often anymore) so I jumped to be there with them.
After thinking about it I realized that though it may have been impulsive, it wasn't random at all. I've traveled back to the East Coast in the spring and in the fall, every year since I graduated. May and November, roughly, every year, right on schedule. It turns out that just about every six months or so I start to get antsy. Antsy for travel, for adventure, for good coffee and long conversations with old friends.
That antsiness usually comes with waves of loneliness and ennui, which have also been present these past few weeks. My work schedule is no longer 100% flexible, either, which means I can't always respond to those waves with day trips to Ann Arbor. Over all it's been a bit of a grind these past few weeks, but I recognize that it is just a season.
Soon there will be New York and fewer shifts at the hospital and more time for the work I'm living in Owosso to do. And through it all, I know that I loved. Loved my family, by my friends and by the original lover, the lover whose love started us all down this path of ours. His love is a hard to feel sometimes, but I think that's why he created beautiful orange pumpkins, warm texts from my family, and hugs from Marlene every time she leaves the house.