the wind in the willows

I have been apartment hunting for weeks. It is an emotional draining process for a woman spread a bit too thin as it is. After years of a diaspora I didn't even have the energy to start, I want to go home.

I have belongings in multiple cities, an attic here, a garage there and a basement hours away from either.

I want to magnetize my cells and bring together what little bits are my life.

Not that I am consumed by my possessions, I have gotten rid of many many things over the last few years that I doubt I will ever miss.

I just ache for a picture on the wall of my family and to page through a comforting and familiar book. I little constance could do me well.

I worry my "making do" as I have for so long now has aged me. I crave peace and a little tranquility but the demands I put on myself in my scrambling for an education and career have had me playing more than hopscotch.

I need a lease. I need a very comfortable chair with my coveted quilt and large tea cup. I need to get it together. I have so many wonderful things in my life at the moment and I want to enjoy them from home.

Last night was a point of incredible confusion and ache for me. I was at a dinner party with people. I remembered the joy of just being home with friends and fussing over them.

It is the very nature of a Holmes to be home. I hope I find mine.