I returned to Virginia for a week, and it made me think about a lot of things. I know this comes as a shock. "What? Meg never thinks! And she certainly never taints her blog with vague, cerebral garbage!"

But really, it made me think. ("and now you're going to tell us all about it, right? right?!" well, yeah.)

I've mentioned before that I feel like I'm in a state of "becoming" (ignore any Red Dragon references that may occur to you there). At least, since I came home to Cali-for-neeya (and that's what it really felt like — Virginia is just a place I used to live, now) I've been getting a lot done. I hung my white/corkboard in the kitchen, bought and put up new blinds and curtains, finally got my own ficus (I have this thing about ficus trees. It is a mystery even to me.), and replaced the dying bean-bag with a nice chair from Ikea. It almost looks like someone lives here, now. And I've impressed a lot of people at work in the past week, including myself. All the same, my dishes are still dirty and I have a thousand boxes stuffed with junk I can't bring myself to chuck stashed away in cabinets and under the futon and my bed. And though Spidell has offered to pay for me to finish my degree, I haven't made any movement toward getting that started.

I spent so long feeling so bad. I'm thankful every single day for where I am now, that I don't go to sleep crying and walk around feeling broken all the time. I'm really comfortable, and I think that's part of what's standing in my way. I have to finish my degree. Maybe it's part of my genetic makeup, maybe it's just because that was The Plan since forever. The thought of going back to USC is part eager challenge, part nauseating terror. It's the nauseating terror that keeps me from picking up the phone and starting to reconnect. Yeah, I could transfer, but I'd feel like I lost, somehow. I hate USC, I don't want it to beat me. All the same, I don't want to beat myself. Been there, done that.

I've been at Spidell almost a year now. Am I different? Are my personal demons chased away or sufficiently bridled? I don't know. I think until I can start the ball (giant, Indiana-Jones-style boulder) rolling and keep it rolling, I haven't really changed that much.

Current Music: Strokes, "I Can't Win" (haha, that sounds terrible. I didn't pick it, I swear, it was just on.)

Current Mood: Pensive, as per usual.