February 20, 2006

I believe I am almost completely well. I was going to go to the doctor the other day, but it would have cost me over two hundred dollars just to get looked at, so I opted for a little home therapy. I lay in bed for hours at a time and breathed very slowly, and drank lemon lime Gatorade. I only spoke on very important occasions. When I became bored with lying in bed and thinking, I went through the Algebra section in my sister's GRE prep book. I made the same careless errors that I made in eighth grade, but it is still my favorite math and it made me want to be a math teacher. However, I had ample time to rethink that, and I do not want to be a math teacher. I want to do math homework; big difference. When I was burned out on math, I watched several hours of West Wing Season 1, and drank tea and took vitamins. The combination appears to have worked; my sore throat has calmed down and my voice has returned.

Now that I am feeling better and I have had a few days to do nothing but think and read and solve inequalities (both in algebra and in society as a whole), I believe the emotions of making a major cross country move are beginning to catch up with me, and I am in a frightfully bad mood. The microwave keeps making a low crashing noise, and I would like nothing better than to use a baseball bat to teach it a lesson. Following that, I would like to cry for a few minutes and then watch a movie. And if someone wanted to play with my hair while I watched the movie, I would be okay with that. I know some of you are frightened by my e-anger, but you are just going to have to be okay with that, and learn that I am not dangerous.

One of the nice things about getting sick in Santa Fe, as opposed to New York, is being taken care of. I kept picturing myself getting bundled up and riding the bus to the doctor's office, and then riding the bus to the pharmacy, and then trying not to faint while walking back up the five flights of stairs to my old apartment. Here, I can be driven to the doctor's office, if I should choose to go, and people make me tea and buy me ice cream and tuck me into bed. It is delightful.

I do think that getting sick was my body's way of letting me know that I have not let myself adjust to moving from New York to Santa Fe. I didn't want to have to adjust. Adjusting to New York took much longer than I expected it to, and I think I was under the impression that moving in with family would save me from having to adjust to anything new. I guess I have been viewing this whole thing as a vacation. You don't have to adjust to anything if you are just on vacation. (That is unless someone is taking you on a vacation to break some big news to you, like you are getting kicked out of your house or your parents have actually not been married this whole time.) A few nights ago, I was driving around Santa Fe and I was struck by how unfamiliar it looked. It could be for a number of reasons: 1) I have lived here for two weeks 2) I have been in bed for a good amount of that time and 3) I have not yet grasped the idea that all of my stuff is in New Mexico and I am in New Mexico and I am not leaving here to return to New York or California anytime soon.

I have attached some fine photos that illustrate past blog postings.



The Christmas tree I found on the street (Davis Christmas 2005- Best Ever? You Decide. December 29, 2005)



Me outside of Jurassic Pets (They Said They'll Catch Me One Day, Napping. February 9, 2006)



Inside of Jurassic Pets (They Said They'll Catch Me One Day, Napping. February 9, 2006)



I call this photo "New Life." It is me in Santa Fe. I am smiling, and I am in casual clothes, and my shoes are up on a desk. I had spent the day reading and writing.