I've been pretty depressed the past few days--save for the Pixies high, of course--just thinking about the flux-state of moving and the lack of serious job prospects. Talking to most people doesn't seem to provide much comfort, though seeing my friends tonight, all of whom have been in my place and are finally scrambling out, was probably the most comfort, no matter how general.
It was also a reminder of how much I'll be leaving behind. Even though the friends are slowly scattering and becoming more involved in separate lives, we still make the effort to be there for each other, and that relationship naturally has to change as people move apart physically. And my family... while I'll be moving closer to my sister, I'll be farther from my mom and my brother. Though my sister and I probably have more common interests, I feel closer to my mom than anyone, and my brother and I can amuse each other without getting at each others' throats.
But it's time to move on. Time to fly the coop. The door's open; I want to go play outside. I just need to pick a date.
I'm thinking the week of October 4. This gives me a little less than a month to pack and see everyone and maybe line up interviews. And if I'm lucky--which I don't think I am in this matter--I might even hear back from the Ideal Job in that time.
Part of my depression, I think, is that I'm in this uncertain place, and if I can only land in a sense of certainty, I might find stability. And a fricking job.
And the other part is the stress of moving and, moreover, the stress of what I'm leaving behind.
Well, and part of it's PMS.