Now, I have a "real" job (and I will actually start it next week). I am no longer in school.
And I should be eager to move out.
But I'm (much) older than when I moved out for college and after college. I know now what it means to live on my own, and I also understand that this time, I probably won't come back. Of course, I'll come visit, but after I leave this time, I won't ever really live at home again. Hopefully, my life will head towards having a husband and children, but for the (as yet unknown) period of time I would live alone, I would likely be somewhat scared and mildly uncomfortable.
Something happened to me in the last three years.
I became rooted.
Now, when the thought to flee the state, the county, the country pops into my head, I don't start thinking about the wonderful possibilities away from this place I've known for way too long. No, I start thinking about what I would leave behind, what I don't want to miss.
When I drove 80, 780 and 680 in one day, I thought about how I know the place where I live. I know the Bay Area, and commuting seemed possible that day. When I drove home from Hayley's place after Bible Study last night, though, I thought that it only takes 40 minutes to get from her city to mine, but that it's a very long 40 minutes, and that that 40 minutes when I'm exhausted first thing in the morning or right after work would make my life a living hell.
So, what do I do?
I can't live at home forever. But I can't check myself into the hospital every weekend for exhaustion, as if I were some kind of b-list celebrity. So, that means no extensive commuting.
What do I do?
For now, I let it go. I can't worry about that right now.