I'm hanging out in a friend's apartment, sitting on her couch with her dog, not studying, getting nervous for this afternoon's interview. Actually being in Chicago is panicking me a little. Driving in from the airport last night, through the gritty streets, with the traffic and the cold and the urban-ness of it all . . . is this what I want? I feel lonely already. It feels different sitting alone in an apartment in the city than it does alone in a cabin in the mountains. I shouldn't feel this way. One of my best friends in the world picked me up at the airport yesterday. We ordered take-out and chatted into the night and she'll be interviewing me this afternoon and I know if I move back here we'll do this a lot. Sit together eating Thai and watching bad TV. And that sounds good. It sounds great. Walking out my front door and ending up in a coffee shop or an antique store, access to public transportation, and places and reasons to wear high heels all sound great.
But . . . I think I need to make an effort to find a job in Idaho. I need to at least try. Because I already miss the mountains.
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