Day 1: Pacific Time.
I never know what time it is anymore. My phone is on military time and my brain is on Michigan time. Not one piece of me has aligned with Seattle time, though I welcome the ease at which I wake up at dawn.
I am wrapping up my first full day here and I am beyond exhausted. I can’t blame it on this one day, though, so I’ll call it the week and leave it at that. Packing up one life and moving it across ten states in six days. That’s work, whether I’ve got checks coming in or not.
I walked more today than I have in months. This is life in the big city.
The lady and I are staying with two of her friends. A couple. We’re crashing, with our four-legged friend and their own pair of fur-balls, in their newly purchased home. Their first place together has become our “couch” to surf. I actively ooze gratitude.
We’re smack dab in the middle of all that is South Seattle. Busy main streets are sidled by quiet, sleepy ones adorned with small houses and small(er) yards. Lush, unkempt plant life adorns the city. With each passing step, a million shades of green.
I am overwhelmed and under-slept. I am over-stimulated and in dire need of kale, alone time, and yoga (never. enough. yoga.). Still, I like this new place. It is busy and sometimes gritty. It is strange and unfamiliar. It is not Ann Arbor. Not for a second.
Day 6: The view from here.
The past six days are all that I know of this place (beyond bits of memory from a brief previous visit). This city is immense. So much more than I knew or could have imagined. It is a vast landscape made up of waves of color. Hills of all sizes spotted with buildings and green spaces.
I love it here, I say to myself confidently and, perhaps, prematurely. Still, I say it and I it resonates within as I wander outside, hiking up hills, taking in the view provided for me here. Wherever I look, if the sky will allow for it, my eyes meet mountains. The corners of my mouth turn up and my heart soars.
It’s not just the mountains, really. It’s everything surrounding me. Everything that, in this short time, I’ve managed to take in. The fact that our neighbors take family walks in the neighborhood with their sheep and that “Rocky,” the homeless (though not orphaned) pitbull gleefully greets everyone he encounters, his monstrous jaw turning up into a near-permanent smile.
In a strange city, it’s incredible how comfortable and supported I feel, even with the occasional bout of feeling completely and utterly overwhelmed by all that is life and change.
I have friends here. Good ones. And the lady friend does too. She has family, in fact, which in my opinion is sort of like a friend with a lifetime warranty.
Being miles and miles away from family and Midwest friends (legitimately, in what is not simply a six-month farm stint) weighs on my heart a bit, but in the end, it. Just. Is.
We leapt and now we’ve landed. Safely. Perhaps a little jostled from some minor turbulence (have I mentioned how painful it is to drive through all of Kansas in one day?), but with limbs and spirits intact. The latter piece is integral. Beyond that, though, we’ve got a new, magnificent place to explore, food to eat, people to meet, and a whole lot of patience and hope to muster up for the challenges that surely lie ahead.
On that note, back to the job hunt I go.