So I'm writing again. I have been diligent in making myself spend at least an hour a day on a short story. I know that's not much, but I am truely bogged down making up work from when I was sick. But anyways, I am writing. I'm setting the story in Tucson. I guess in a way that will always be a spiritual home for me. I went to school there for four years and they were probably the best four years of my life.

The dumbest thing I've ever done was push myself to finish college in four years. I was taking six or more classes a semester and going to summer school as well. I could have relaxed a bit more and taken another year. There is something very unique and special about being away at college that I don't think ever happens again later. The complete freedom accompanied by lack of adult responsibilities allows for this unusual culture. I remember one morning getting a call from a friend who heard that the leaves up in the mountains were turning fall colors. Without a second thought, we ditched class that day and drove up to play. There were no reprocussions for this. There was no planning or calling in necessary. We just picked up and left. There is no way I could do that now.

We used to go out with friends almost every night. I can't imagine that now. I get home from work and that is it for me. I have no energy to be social with anyone but my husband. A lot of times I don't even have the energy for him. And I'm off work at three o'clock.

I think a large part of it is I haven't made any really close friends out here, despite the embarrassing fact that I have lived here for nearly five years. I have aquaintences, but nobody I would miss if I never crossed paths with them again, exept for my sister in law who I would see again anyways.

Part of this is because I had a friend out here to start with. We had gone to college together and it was actually a visit out to see her (she was two years ahead of me) that made me fall in love with the area and eventually move out here. But this is a long drawn out drama for another time.

I need to meet more people. Why is it that everyone I am close to lives far far away. I think of my close group of friends from college and it is as if somebody has picked us up and scattered us around the country. At least we all still keep in close contact, at least all but a select (selected?) few.

I get homesick like this at least three times a year. The odd thing is, I was never nuts about the town itself. It was ugly and commercial and EVERY FRIGGIN' BUISNESS WAS A CHAIN. Not to mention the dust wreaked havoc on my asthma. But it was home.