August.

I began school last week. I am tired. Little amounts of sleep, waking up early , driving two and three round trips to the college each day, this heat, physical pain from attempting yoga twice a week... Added up, I come home every day worn out from being around people, from having to look put together and interact socially and pleasantly. I suppose this is the "real world" everyone thinks I've been sheltered from, and there are days I wonder if they're right. 

It's good, though. Two of my classes are less than thrilling, but I love, love, love my creative writing class- the assignments, the class discussions, my fantastic feminist professor and his suggestions, many of the people in my class, the diversity in age range especially. Yoga will be a good thing, I think. And I find myself appreciating little things so much. Just one kind word from another student or thoughtful comment about something I've said/written, or a conversation that makes me laugh early in the morning when I start wishing I wasn't awake. I am busy, but I feel okay. Really okay. 

I miss my boy. It's only been a week, but I want to drive up to the Volcanic Town Of Eternal Stoner Christmastime (Flagstaff, AZ) and fetch him back here to me. But this is necessary for the both of us and I confess it makes me glad to see him living in a place where he is glad. 

So until October, I am here, waiting and doing my hardest work to enjoy what is hopefully my last summer spent in this city.