Post-college.

This fall I am not a full-time student for the first time in my life. And it's a little bit traumatic. A few weeks ago, after traveling to different corners of the world for over a month, I was home for about ten days before packing up my car and moving halfway across the country to Minnesota. I didn't anticipate how hard it would be to move across the country until after I'd done it. And to be honest, if I had realized how emotionally exhausting it would be I probably wouldn't have. But after making a fairly abrupt decision and naively thinking I could do anything I wanted and succeed, I applied for a job out here and made my first solid plans for my post-college life.

Minnesota is beautiful, but it isn't Maine. I miss home, familiar places, the general comfort of small town life. I've learned that the suburbs are not the same as towns. Not at all. As much as I don't really like cities, I actually kind of hate the suburbs. Praise the Lord Maine doesn't have them.

And it might get better. I know that it probably will get better. In fact, it has already gotten better than it was during the first week. But I still just feel so out of place here. Every once in a while I realize that I'm not in college, that right now is my "real life" and I'm spending it coasting along, staying in my friend's parents' basement and working at a job that in no way counts as a grown-up job. The fact that this is my real life terrifies me.