In a few hours I’ll be on a plane to Maine. I have a list of exciting projects to last the rest of my life there. P has mentioned multiple times, “you have such an interesting life.” I’m not sure how sustainable it is, but as M mentioned the other night, I can certainly afford it for the foreseeable future. Now, my room in Seattle is empty and old roommates are moving into it in a couple weeks. My childhood home in Surry awaits. Kate and I hang on the edge of discussing projects and plans in Maine. My family anxiously awaits my return.

Six years. Oh, so much. As I measure life in six month increments, six years is many lifetimes. Once I’m settled, J and I may continue talking regularly via skype. When I consider this, I’m reminded of our hundreds of hours of conversation. I just was reading an article about how our brains can be rewired to disassociate traumatic events from triggers by recalling them and then replacing the memories with better ones actively. This makes much sense to me.

I’ve only had a wink or two of sleep tonight, which can’t be good as I’m still recovering from sleep deprivation at Black Rock. Mom asked me what my plans were once I got home, and I told her to spend quiet time with Kate and catch up on sleep. Then, continue work on the garage. My anxiousness kept me awake, but now my body is trying to shut down. I’m feeding it coffee and Tums now. Within an hour, I’ll be on my way to the airport for a 5:15am departure.