Silver Lining

I drove home today after work, the word having come to mean where my parents and pets live since I seem to be lacking a place of my own. I refer to where I sleep as "the hotel," not wanting to confuse that livable yet depressing place as mine in any real way. There are still large ziploc bags that hold bathroom items under the counter in the tiny room. I haven't unpacked the two boxes of pantry items Friend put together, preferring to dig through the contents occasionally rather than put all the boxes and cans in cupboards. And so I leave that place on the weekends, coming home or otherwise going away. I'll likely continue to do so until I settle in to my new house. 3 weeks and counting.

"Hey, trouble," Adam has started to greet me. I grin when he winks and don't particularly mind the moniker for now.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful - I really do love this job," I often say. He shakes his head, unable to hide a smile, and asks what I want now. Oftentimes it's advice and he's happy to provide it. Sometimes it's office supplies and he keeps directing me to Karen. She's less than helpful, so I finally evaluated the battle, mourned my pitiful computer set up and admitted defeat. I had a docking station for my laptop and a little plastic contraption that would put the monitor at eye level. But without a keyboard to sit on the desk, I'd be typing with my hands at shoulder height all day - it didn't seem worth it.

After seeing someone snag a keyboard out of a locked supply room, I casually followed him back to a desk and watched him hang up the key. I fetched the key later that day and eagerly grasped a new keyboard from the shelves lined with precious supplies, took a mouse for good measure and headed back to my desk. I wasn't thrilled that they both had wires, but I decided to count my blessings and arranged items to my liking.

"You can cross the keyboard and mouse off the list of things I need," I told Karen later. "I found some that will work, so I'm all set!" She arrived later that day with wireless versions of both.

"But," I said before pausing to look at them. I'd asked and asked and asked, and she hadn't brought them until I decided I didn't really need them. "Thanks," I finally said simply, unhooking the peripherals I found and replacing them with the better version. And so it's been going - I didn't get invited to lunch today, but I still adore my colleagues. I sometimes get forgotten in my bigger office that's a bit out of the way, but it is a nice spot to work. I sometimes don't know the answers to questions, but I'm learning who people are and who knows what. And I am fascinating by the tasks that end up on my desk.

I realized on the drive this afternoon that today would have been the final day of my fellowship. My funding officially ran out, had we not terminated it early. I watched sunlight stream through a break in the clouds, speeding through landscape I know should be boring yet I still find lovely. I reminded myself that it's been about a month since I left and I've been incredibly happy for much of that time. I'm finding my balance and beginning to contribute. It's getting easier and I'm pleased with the decisions that got me here.

"Oh, I miss you," I said into Chienne's neck as she frantically wiggled and cuddled close. I hate being away from her - it's ridiculously painful at times. But I feel better being with her now - just hearing her breathe from the other side of the bed.

"Hey, Mr. Sprout," I said, sitting on the steps leading to his basement. He purred and let me stroke his stripey coat. He stared at me while I talked, leaning into my touch as I rubbed under his chin. "Three more weeks," I told him, for he's been here a long time now. "Then it's one more car ride and home we go. To a new home."

"Maybe it's good," RL said when I visited her last weekend, "that you had some time to focus on work before officially moving all your stuff." I nodded, thinking I was ready now, but she's likely right. The lack of a house and my belongings and my precious pets may have been a nice way to transition. But I'm ready for this part to be over, I think.