Joanna’s text came out of nowhere: “I’m so happy you’re moving to Hawaii. We’re having the first rainy day of the year and I’m already over it! Don’t know how you’re surviving Portland!”
Surviving, yes, that’s what’s going on here and it’s not going well. Seasonal depression does not pair well with loneliness. My frustrations and sadness have gotten the best of me. Exercise and diet have flown out the window and been drowned by the rain and the pounds I’ve recently gained. I’m averaging eleven hours of sleep a night. My energy and coping abilities are at a dangerous low and I’m failing miserably at work and amongst my friends.
Peace in this current wave of uncertainty has been elusive and intangible to say the least.
But something just happened that I almost forgot was scheduled to happen – the pets had their vet appointment. I took the whole brood in for their rabies titers, which got the ball rolling on their mandatory 120-day quarantine procedures. I can officially move to Hawaii in four months.
And so appears the light at the end of this dark tunnel.