.reflection.

I'm super busy these days. I'm not getting to do a lot of the things that I want to do because of it all. I want to go to the beach for a last time here. I want to be in the warm sun. I want to work with the horses. I want to volunteer at the shelter. I want to hang out with my brothers. I want to get time to chill. I want to see my sister for longer than her lunch break or the time I can squeeze into my incredibly busy schedule. I want to shoot the shit with Chelle--which I got to do the other day. I want to laugh with friends and create great memories. Still, I spend most of my time packing and trying to organize it all so that I can get shit shipped to me as I need it. It's so tough to move this way. Last time I move, I got to just throw a bunch of shit into a trailer and haul it away with my own car. I've reduced a lot of the stuff I've had. I get to claim a good amount on taxes next year for Goodwill again. The stress is showing on my face and I don't like that. I've become short with my mother mostly because I am too stubborn to accept any help.

The thing is that the stress doesn't dissipate once I get to NY. If anything, it increases. Half of my shit is there and half is here. I haven't found a place to live yet and you can only crash at a friend's place for a certain amount of time. I've promised them that it will be no longer than two weeks. I even told them that I'd pay them. I must be feeling quite benevolent. Soon, I'll be feeling like a poor, exhausted law student. And to add stress to stress, I am unemployed as of the end of the month. So, basically, I need to find an apartment and a job in the next week. It's really only 4 days too cause there's Memorial Day. Fabulous.

I wish I could be like Carrie from Sex and the City (which, yes, I am thrilled that the movie is coming out. I will be seeing it opening weekend and dragging whoever I may with me. Plus I'll BE in NYC. How fabulous is that?!). I wish that I could write articles in the paper and random articles in random magazines and make enough money to pay the bills. I'm scared right now that I'm headed in the wrong direction. That I'm chasing a dream that's not mine. That I'm not lawyer material. I want to do good. I want to fight for those who need it. I don't want to end up a heartless asshole who hates their job. I guess, I could still end up as a dog trainer. Working in NYC. Learning to be good enough to be called on by the people who can pay me high dollar so that I can make their pooches happier and the owners happier and be able to pay my rent. Which is fucking expensive. And, my god, the scams are RAMPANT in the city. I guess it works for them though. But really, how many people read "well, the problem is that I'm the only one with the keys and I need you to wire me money so that I can send the key to you." Oh, okay. How much do you want? "I would like the first and last months rent and the security deposit. Which is 6,500 bucks." Oh, okay. Here you go.

Seriously? Wow.

So yeah, I'm moving. I'm stressed. I have a jillion different things on my mind. I'm swinging between depression and just being okay with all the other shit going on in my life. I just wish that some people respected what I was going through and didn't demand that everything be about them. I don't have time for drama right now. I'm trying to think positive and hope that I'm moving in the right direction. Part of me can hardly believe that I'm making this step. The other part of me wishes that I would have done this two years ago so that I could go to my college reunion telling everyone that I got my shit together and things are fabulous. When really, I spent the past 4 years doing a job that I have little to no interest in. Alas, I'm moving forward--or something--now.

I got a message from an old friend asking me how many children I had now. I was caught between saying I don't want children so it's not shocking that I don't have any OR saying that I'm too busy for that. Meaning, I am incapable of maintaining a healthy relationship and therefore have no one I could have children with, much less do I have a career at all. I can't plan my life with no way to support it. Now, I'm figuring out a way to support it. Really, I have no clue what there is past this "career move." Three years. Three. I cannot believe I'm committing to that. I hope that I can do it in less time. That is assuming that I even make it past first year. I feel so uncertain about it all. I just need some support. Luckily moving to the city allows me the support of some good friends that I haven't seen in a while. Plus my potential roomie's bf is going to the same law school. Maybe he can help me prepare for my lack of a life for the first year. All of my friends from elsewhere are talking about coming to visit me. They didn't want to come see me in the last city I lived in. :) NYC is fabulous. I look forward to it. Maybe I'll be discovered as a model (lol, hahaha, yeah right) and then I can make great money for a few years and have some old ass producer buy me an apartment in TriBeCa or East Village. Ah, a girl can dream.

Enough babbling. I'm moving. I'm happy and excited and petrified. But I love life and I'm going to "grab the bull by its horns" (as my family might say) and do my best. The thing is that I've said goodbye so many times before. It's a wonder that my friends here keep attending the "she's leaving again" events. I love them for it though. Good times and great oldies. Now, time for the city and looking fabulous. Now, if only I had Carrie's wardrobe....