back in the big city

So I'm back in Vancouver.

It feels a bit surreal. Like nothing has changed. And yet, everything has changed. The entire time I've lived here I've been a student, with the particular combination of time, money and mental capacity constraints that implies. Now I've been gone for seven months, lived back in my home town, though not really 'at home' instead in the basement of a friend, I've worked, hiked, been with good friends, travelled to three new countries, learned plenty of powerful life lessons (the kind that only come from travelling), and now I find myself back here. In the same apartment, in the same room, with the same furniture.

The room badly needs to be rearranged. It just feels too much the same, like I'm back to the same life. And yet I know I'm not. What life I am in I really don't know yet. The life of an EI holiday? The life of searching desperately, and possibly endlessly for work? The life of a secretary, receptionist, volunteer, writer, coffee barista, waitress? How will I know? When will I know? It's a mite overwhelming, to be honest.

But first things first. Rearranging the room. And talking to the landlord about the possibility of painting. And unpacking.

My roommate jumped up and down with glee when she saw me in the doorway last night.

It is good to be back.