In the paraphrased words of Bridget Jones, it's a known fact that the second something goes right in your life, another area goes spectacularly to shit. Now that I'm firmly entrenched in adulthood, I couldn't agree more.
The new job is not perfect. An hour commute to Santa Fe (literally 60 minutes, going 75 MpH) leaves much to be desired--including the desire for an extra hour of sleep in the morning. But the personnel is great and I'm feeling right at home. It's not my forever job, but it will certainly be doable for the next few years while we're here.
Which brings me to the shit part. This is an on-call month for the Doctor; these months are always hard for me because it means lots of lonely time by myself, usually leading to self-absorbed melancholy. And this weekend was a doozy.
I cried all weekend and I can't seem to get myself to pull out of it three days later. I feel completely submerged under this saddness and I cannot get out. Even though it's been awhile since anyone broke my heart, I feel very much like I just ended a relationship. I find my eyes unexplicably welling. I have an actual catch in my throat every time I think of Arizona and sometimes, I want to go back so desperately that I literally cannot breathe. My desire is so overwhelming it literally catches me by surprise, like a slap across my cheek.
And so I have realized, I cannot stay here. I cannot. Not when my desire to move back to Arizona is so overwhelming.