MISS MOOX + time


So I've moved. Again. The third time in ten months, and the fifth in the past seven years (not to count various nomadic wanderings betweentimes). That's not a lot, compared to how often many people move, but a move always leaves you feeling displaced. There are a thousand little adjustments, like a pot being vigorously stirred and slowly settling down again. Everything stops, but nothing's in its original place. That's how I feel right now—still in the settling stage.

But the place is quite a bit cheaper than the previous and it feels a lot more my own, as much as any place can do which you're inhabiting temporarily. I have a sense of freedom and autonomy that I didn't where I was before, and to me that's priceless. I'd put up with a lot of loss of physical comfort for that intangible necessity any day.

The landlady is easy-going, undemanding, and non-controlling. She's a dear older lady who goes to the Unitarian church, which led to an interesting discussion on Sunday (when they had a "non-Easter" celebration). She understands that I believe Jesus is the Son of God and rose from the dead, though she doesn't share that belief. She was interested in visiting my church one day; Unitarians view all faiths as equal, so it would likely be considered educational. Talking to her was an instruction in what Unitarians believe (or don't believe; the answer is everything and nothing, with tolerance for all, in theory).

And there's a kitty, a dear elderly thing who makes the place a home, meows rustily, regularly pukes up her dinner, and consents to have her head rubbed when she is feeling tolerably safe.

So life has seemed just a little too hectic and out of control recently, with moving; a viral sickness which has contributed a low-grade misery (and, one day last week, a day spent entirely in bed feeling like I'd been hit by a truck); and too many freelance work committments to perform in the spare time I have. Life is a conundrum: I'm ridiculously un-busy at work, and ridiculously busy outside of it. I wish I could somehow switch those two realities.

My blog is not exactly a "personal diary", and I try to avoid musings upon my personal affairs except when they might entertain or instruct somebody. But I don't really have anything else going through the brain right now.

Just adjusting. Some more.

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Relevant to: Displaced + time