I am grateful for my husband. James drove me to the airport Monday. He made me breakfast and let me sort of zone out snoozily (sleepiness+anxiety) while he concentrated on driving and I had clean laundry to pack and when he left the car at the airport parking lot Wednesday (he's in Texas shooting javelina this week w/his brothers) he emailed me a detailed map w/pictures. He is very thoughtful and very hilarious and very nice. And not back till Monday which is the only reason coming home this afternoon was awesome but not perfect.
I am grateful for a good job. I traveled this week to Pasco (the tri-cities) Washington to help the hospital w/their transition to the new system. The area is known, I learned, for great moderate weather and amazing sunrises and sunsets.
I got to know a lot of cool people from Madison and also a lot of really great people from the organization. This week was awesome/blessed because it helped me see both that I'm going to be good at this job--both from the software side and the interpersonal side--and that I'm going to like it. There are elements both of teaching and managing that really appeal to me, I'm exited to earn expertise that is specific and concrete (after the flip-floppiness of English) and really useful, and the system is big enough and complex enough and variable enough that I don't anticipate getting complacent. It wasn't maybe a remarkable week, but it was challenging in good ways and affirming.
I'm grateful for Mormons. I was driving aimlessly around the other night looking for dinner (I found a Greek place I went to two nights in a row. Most things I want from life can be found in a styrofoam box with a decent gyro and a good greek salad.) when I saw a golden angel Moroni in the distance. I had no idea there was a temple in central Washington, much less 5 minutes from my hotel. I got to visit last night and it felt in so many ways like coming home. Which I pretend a little to myself like I don't need, which is a crock--smiling faces and mormon haircuts and hand-holding couples and all of those cultural nuances I've become so attuned too, good at reading, and which I feel so impotent without.
And the session/aftermath was really really great too. Something I needed w/out even knowing it.
I'm grateful for my house. I didn't know how homesick I would be, but it was *marvelous* coming home. We live in a cozy little attic apartment. It was good to see our downstairs neighbors, good to see James' car, good to see my name on the mail waiting for me, good to see our piles of shoes and our unhung pictures and our funny temporary couch and the office that (see entry for Nov. 1st) James put hours into organizing while I was gone--it's a room again! I do love my house.
I'm grateful for my family. I got to talk to Anne this week and Connie and I really love and miss my family. It's like the Mormon homesickness, but moreso: belonging and understanding and shared heritage. I had this vision (and I'm trying to remember what sparked this...) of Rachel with short grey hair (I think I was wondering what shade of grey I'd go and if at some point I'd stop dyeing it and just let it be grey)--Rachel older but still herself which reminded me of a post she wrote once about spending waning years in close proximity to theoretically widowed sisters which filled me with a sense of belonging and continuity and comfort about the way our/my life(lives) are changing.