A lot has been whirling through my head this week — seemingly impossible final assignments, never-ending lists of tasks, what to do with my soon-to-be graduated self, the plot of a surprisingly good book — but what has taken up residence in my mind this almost wintery day is a magical place: Seattle.
Well, what I think is magical. I’ve actually never been there myself, but that’s not the point.
The rainy city was on the periphery of my thoughts, floating out there like a far-fetched dream, until I got a package in the mail. My 2012 planner (bright red, a daily set-up instead of my more traditional weekly) came in the mail to my delight. You see, I love planning, seeing things accomplished. I even have mini audit sessions with my friends for fun and used to look forward to writing in and balancing my checkbook. The thought of a whole empty book for me to fill sends shivers of delight through my veins.
But, when I looked at the blank, beige pages I realized there were no more formulas for this life of mine. No more classes to mark off a list. No more preprogrammed steps for me to follow.In a little over half a year the path of my life will be fully in my own hands.
And this, along with a much-needed impromptu talk with a wise friend and advisor, is what has brought my mind to Seattle. It has been a dream since I met some fantastic friends (found here, here and here) to live closer to or even with them. Trouble with that is they’re on the West Coast and I’m on the other side of the Mason-Dixon line in the homeland of bacon and sweet tea.
While a decision is far from being made, I keep finding myself looking at possible community newspapers in areas around Seattle instead of finishing my pesky final projects for class. So, parents, don’t cringe yet, but do prepare yourself (I know prayer, lots of it, always helps) for letting the oldest of your baby bears out of the den for a while.
I want to know more about you, dear readers. Where do you dream about living?