I nearly forgot what it was like to move out of an old and disliked, yet comfortable, place into completely different one. It throws your whole life off, as I have been for the past week. In a sense I have felt a bit manic depressive due to the elation I have felt unpacking all of the stuff I have accumulated over the past few years into my new apartment while feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. It’s weird, I haven’t lived with Emily for six months now, but for some reason living in a place where we had once lived together had fooled me into believing that I wasn’t alone. My new place doesn’t have that history and now, finally, I feel alone.
Being alone sucks.
Thankfully, I still see Emily fairly frequently which has helped immensely, but coming home to an apartment still full of semi-empty boxes just doesn’t feel right.
On the grad school front I’m nearing the end of my first rotation and attempting to set up my next three for the upcoming year. So far I’m zero for three of my top picks (one “no” and two haven’t replied yet) which is beginning to worry me a bit and now I have to spend a lot of time making a back-up list of profs I would possibly want to spend the next six years with. Fun stuff.
Also, one of the forgotten joys of moving involves eating a lot of crap because your kitchen isn’t completely unpacked and situated the way you like it. Throw in the recent Chicago heat wave and I’m left to eating prepared foods from the supermarket or anything cold I can get my hands on. I feel like crap eating that stuff but I’m so hot that I don’t want to cook anything. Talk about a rock and a hard place.
I’m going to do what I can to get most of the rest of my junk unpacked tonight just so I can begin to get my life in order.