After a very unpleasant day, two years ago, in which every cherished dream I had looked like it was turning to dust, I've been a little more cautious in how I approach things. I look forward to things now, but with a certain jaded lack of excitement. It's actually a pretty bitter pill to swallow, not being able or willing to anticipate things as I did in another lifetime.
Lately, that's changed a little. Because there is something that is provoking a huge wave of eagerness and excitement within me: soon I will be moving to Palm Springs. Not sure why I am excited--maybe the fact that my commute won't be nearly as brutal? Or that I will be able to find an apartment with central air-conditioning--that isn't in the ghetto? Or that I will be closer to a Target, a good sports park, more educated people in my age group, more culture, more things to do? But for whatever the reason, the fact remains that for the first time that I have moved to the Armpit of America, I am excited about where I will be living. I moved to Hemet because I had to move to California. I moved to Sunnydale because I needed to, not because there were great options for me here. But my next move? I have several choices of cities, for once, and Palm Springs is there, beckoning. And I can't wait. It's been so long that I have been eager and hopeful and excited about something, it's a strange feeling.
I'm not quite sure what to do with it.
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