Tuesday, June 28, 2005

a plate broke today

i had a week off work, and when i went back, i hit the ground running. it's good--it's actually fun. we're launching some new things; i'm getting to do some stuff i really love doing. but it's crazy busy. i've felt a little like the guys who try to spin the plates on the poles. i've kept them up for almost two weeks, but today one broke.

i flew to my hometown for work. the plan changed while i was working on plane reservations and i ended up making the return reservation for the wrong day--a day late thankfully. it's not all that bad of a mistake, but it has left me in my hometown without the knowledge of my friends or family--except the aunt & uncle i stay with when here. it's just not the kind of mistake i usually make. and being here on my own, free to wander w/o feeling like i should be spending time with someone while i can, i find that i feel lost.

it's odd to feel like a stranger in the town i grew up in...and pretty much lived in until i moved away five years ago. much is familiar...streets are in the same place, major landmarks are still there, none of my friends or family have changed homes. but the business that line the streets have changed. there are new restaurants--chains have come that weren't here five years ago; a few favorite local places have disappeared-- there's a freshness to the city. it feels familiar and strange all at the same time. i feel a little lost and melancholy and even homesick here. tonite i was to be home, seeing a friend who'd pick me up at the airport, seeing the ocean, smelling the salt air before heading inland towards the valley where i live. i'd have stopped by my neighborhood grocery store to pick up some fruit & yogurt for breakfast in the morning. i'd have slept in my own bed with the windows open, the breeze coming into my room. instead i sit here in a borders, catching up on some work things and noticing i feel out of place... a broken plate amongst the spinning ones.

i wonder what it would take to make a mosaic of the pieces.

1 comment:

Len said...

I hate experiencing the truth of "you can never go home".