Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Moving is always such a mind fuck. Especially when you drive away from the parking lot of your apartment to the driveway of your childhood home. I know I transitioned somewhere in those 523 miles, but I don't know when. The desert landscape didn't help much. Or it helped a lot. I'm not sure. And I swear, every time the weather changed, my mood changed. The first 100 or so miles in the hilly desert, I was bursting with excitement about my new adventure. The next couple hundred miles through the beautiful rock formations of southern Utah, I felt overwhelmed with love for everyone in my life. As the weather got dry and dusty when I hit Grand Junction, I felt irritated. Through the mountainous beginning of the Rockies, I was exhausted. And by the time I hit the fog and rain past Edwards, I started sobbing because of how scared I am to lose the people and places I've come to love in Salt Lake. Finally, it started snowing. Hard. At that point I had already gone through every emotion and every type of weather, so I became numb and stayed that way until I hit the familiarity of C-470 headed home. And since then, everything's been a giant daze.



































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