Constantchange

The sun is bright and terrible in its beauty

The sun came out Friday for the first time in days. I had a hard time not running out of my office building on West Peachtree, disrobing, and streaking towards home. I wanted to be in the sun; it seems like it rained for weeks and weeks without a day like Friday, a day of clear skies and bright light and the 60 degree winters I moved here to enjoy. We have had a rainy, wet time for months and months. This weekend of sunshine and warmer weather was such a treat.

I have slowly started to pick up all my old comfortable habits again, the ones I lost during engagement and marriage. I now walk to Sevananda by myself again for guacamole supplies and chocolates, I again maintain my blog regularly, I can again make mix CD's and write letters to friends and toy with the idea of art projects. I again can ride the train to new restaurants and explore Atlanta. My routines are more comforting than I can explain. Yet I fall back into them with the dread knowledge that I am forcing a huge change in my life soon. Within two months, the husband and I will buy a house.

A house. I will have a house before I'm 30. The idea is wonderful and exciting and still fills my stomach with acid. I was standing in Sevananda the other day, shopping, and *enjoying* myself, because there is nothing I like more than a trip to the grocery store unless it is a trip to the comic book store. As I was standing the idea hit me that soon I would no longer live in my neighborhood, my home of two years now. I want to stay here, in this part of town. Inman Park is the center of my internal Atlanta map, where I have drawn all my directions from, yet the houses here are so expensive that Winn and I most likely can't stay. We'll be buying out in East Point or another neighborhood…the prices are just too high here. It kills me, but I have to accept the fact that just as I re-establish all of my beloved routines, I'm going to have to change them, and chart new paths, paths that will probably involve a car. The idea of driving everywhere is like ashes in my mouth.

We're trying to move somewhere close to a train station. This isn't easy. Wish us luck.