March is like my New Year's since it's my birth month. More than the December-January shift, the February-March transition has been my time to look at and think about the past, present and future.
One week ago, on March 1st, I moved. For the first time I have a grown up job that doesn't end after a year or a specific period of contracted time. It's the second time in my life I've moved into an apartment by myself with no roommates and I know even less people in this town than I did the last time I attempted to live alone.
It's a time of new beginnings, I feel. And for the first time since 2005 (the last time I started a somewhat grown-up job), I feel that I am on the verge of something grand.
Unpacking has been an adventure. The familiarity of the couch I bought eight years ago with my roommate in Buffalo. The surprise of the martini glasses and espresso machine left behind by one of my last roommates. It has also been nice to have my own kitchen again, something I haven't really had in 18 months, and I look forward to restocking it from scratch--instead of adding to my 8-year-old collection of spices from Wegmans, Kroger, Jewel, and Dominicks.
Many of the tiny tasks of moving remind me of past moves. Hanging my shower curtain always makes me think of Kentucky in 2004 when Dancer Dan helped me. I had to stand on the toilet, but he was tall enough to reach from the floor. Hanging the StoryPeople print over my bed reminds me of Julie who gave me the print in 2002, and who keeps the StoryPeople print I gave her in 2001 in her bedroom in Michigan. It's not home, until that gold frame is on the wall.
This afternoon I went into town to the regional library. It was the 5th library I've joined in the past 9 years, but for some reason this time after I filled out my paperwork for membership, I inquired about volunteer opportunities.
How very grown up of me.
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