I am finally done my SSHRC application.
I move on Tuesday.
I went out for dinner with a friend last night.
I spent Thursday evening catching up with some good friends.
I am lucky enough to work in a store that is already kitted out for Christmas.
I have some really wonderful coworkers.
I am currently drinking a lovely soy rooibos chai latte.
And, yesterday, while I was walking, the wind was blowing giant autumn leaves all around me.
Decisions. I am not good at them. And I seem to have found myself in a position where no matter what I choose it feels wrong. Of course, this also means that no matter what I choose it feels right. I am not sure what to do with this. Unfortunately my trusty pro-con lists are failing me. They balance out, making them as unhelpful as consulting the ocean and its ever-changing tides or looking for the truth in the strange combination of seagrass and acorns.
Despite the fact that I am technically living in Halifax now, I seem to be spending a lot of time in Wolfville. I miss the place. Also, Halifax and I are having a rough go of it, so I often want to escape and try and think things through. And, of course, I have no desire to spend my days off in a mouse-infested apartment, and Wolfville seems like as good a place as any to get away rom that situation. I had a couple of days off at the end of the Thanksgiving weekend and came out here. My friend's family adopted me for dinner on the Monday night, and basically for all eternity with an open invitation to stay there any time I want, and it was lovely to be around a family. On the Tuesday evening I wandered down to the train tracks with my camera, and it felt like a homecoming. The light was beginning to fade, but the colours of the turning leaves were incredible, and I spent about an hour walking and taking photos. Sometimes going back to old haunts is exactly what I need. Although I am slowly acquiring new haunts in Halifax, it is a long and arduous process. It's nice to have a place to come back to where I can just slide back in effortlessly.
I should probably apologize if this post isn't the most coherent thing ever. I'm deep into SSHRC proposal writing and have very little brain power left for anything else.
I'd been rehearsing this moment for hours, and I had outlined a hundred different scenarios. Mr. Jensen once tried to tell us that there existed somewhere a set of parallel universes, unreachable but real, where every possibility came true; whatever didn't happen here happened somewhere else, each option unfolding in a separate universe. But in this one world, at least, the outcome that morning was reduced finally to just this one version.
-- Karen Thompson Walker, The Age of Miracles
Maybe in some parallel universe there is a Breanna who lives in an apartment that doesn't make her cry on a daily basis. Sadly, it isn't this one.
