I'm not sure where to begin

The last few days, few months, year has been so full of change. Packing up my apartment, ie throwing clothes in a pickup truck and transporting load after load across the panhandle, felt like a cathartic, scary change that had been brewing for a while.

It felt a lot like cleaning out my classroom at the end of last year and moving out of New York from the summer. And then starting over with a numbness that I can't explain because I can't even really process all that is happening. The realization won't start until you burst into tears, projecting onto your best friend after she is running late or breaking down in another teacher's room because you don't know how to teach fractions to fifth graders and you don't want to get yet another teaching credential to eventually have your own classroom.

You'll be sad for a little while, but then excited, because this is what you wanted- to grow, to flourish, to paint in a studio, to start at a school that values professional development, to get the dog that you've been wanting for four years.

It's like riding your bike in the darkened panhandle at night, lights flashing leading the way, but unsure of the bumps in the road and the obstacles en route.