Beginning of a Long Weekend

I'm continually amazed at how much happens in one's twenties. My teenage life was so day-to-day, childhood filled with trips to the creek, most of the days up until college interchangeable. And then semesters started happening, where each one was such a departure from the last and an arrow to the next. And now this. Feeling kind of like a pinball, pinging against the edges of something gigantic and changing direction at the oddest times. I was telling a professor today (was that today?) about Spring Break, and I said, "Last month...no, wait. That was this month." March has brought three job interviews, which means three very different visions of what May and beyond will be like, plus all the ones I make up for myself, plus the aforementioned Break in Seagrove writing, writing, writing, the thesis brought from helpless baby bird to hopeful fledgling and turned in to both committee and grad school, a move across the hall, a toilet fixed, a roommate out and waiting for her replacement, and at least one other factor I won't detail just yet for fear of jinxing it or pushing it into some invisible wall or smothering it by using the wrong words but so far it's the best one of all. So, yeah, March.

And April means Easter which means wackiness at church, then AWP in Denver which means seeing an old friend I'm just now ready to see and possibly begging for jobs, thesis defense the day I get back, maybe a trip to Seagrove, end of classes, possibly starting a job, possibly moving I suppose, though we don't use that word in this family if we can help it. Maybe more interviews, more applications, hopefully a little Frisbee and bread-baking. Grading the last papers, averaging, and wiping my hands of teaching for a little while at least. A few weeks of pollen. Humidity that will hit me like a wall one day when I least expect it. The beach house coming alive with visitors. And that's just about the last thing I know, the last thing I can say without speculating. Because things are about to change big time, no matter what. My job, my schedule, what I do all day, is going to be hugely different than it has been for three years, probably different than it's ever been. Nothing else is really certain either.

Well, that's not true, at all. God is certain, and the good teeth and eyes my mom complimented me on today, and all of my friends here because I know that even if I move, I'll have them with me and I'll be here, for as long as it takes, for as long as I need that. I will always have words, writing and reading, other people's blogs and library book sales. I'll have red wine and running, and curiosity and a solid sense of the ridiculous. There's a lot more that I, that we, will have no matter what, no matter where, no matter when. A lot of things will change. But everything, never.

I've been trying for a long time to cultivate trust. In people, in God, in myself. Every job rejection I get is a chance to reaffirm that I know God has a plan for me, not just a plan I fit into but a shockingly fierce plan for me, for my life, that wouldn't work quite right for anyone else. I put Him in charge daily. I thank Him for everything else, for all of the people that are making me smile, widely, even on days when things feel shaky and frustrating or worse. For Easter, which is the whole point. For weekends, which run a close second. In some ways, even though I'm being evaluated by strangers, even though I'm constantly waiting to hear from someone, even though I have a relatively small plot of ground to stand on these days, in some ways, I have never been happier. I have almost no expectations, except that God will provide what I need and will put me where I belong, job-wise, town-wise. If you walk a set of stairs as if each step is the last, you will never fall. One moment at a time. Deep breaths, long walks, and lots of The Office.

Breyer's ice cream is $1.99 at Harris Teeter until April 6th or so.

No school until Monday!

The new publishing imprint at school is using my handwriting for the logo! Who's bad?

I'm reading for pleasure again, with the thesis temporarily put to bed. It's beautiful. I feel like me.

Everything is just right tonight. May you feel the same way.