I’m back in North Carolina.
I’m at home.
It feels great.
That’s the short version of the story. It’s taken me a while to get to a place where I can blog for a little bit (hello, I’m in a small town now, and people just don’t have the same urgency to connect you with necessities such as internet).
The journey wasn’t too bad. I was worried about how Q and I would fare in the car with a lot of my earthly possessions for an extended period of time. It was a wonderfully successful trip, between lots of listening to Michael Jackson, talking on the phone to family and friends, a stop at Bojangles, and a quite interesting discovery at a rest stop.
Roanoke Rapids is nice. It reminds me of a more urban Hillsborough, with a more diverse population. Even in it’s niceness, it’s a far cry from the activity of the Fort Lauderdale/Miami area that I had become slightly accustomed to.
What I love most is that I’m close to many people that I love and hold dear to my heart. After being hundreds of miles (and hundreds of dollars) away, gassing up the car for a quick hour and half journey is so worth it. One visit to Chapel Hill for a night at He’s Not Here confirmed that all was well. The second confirmation was this weekend, after traveling over to Camden for a wonderful 4th of July celebration.
What I do not miss, or rather, what I do not like, is the unpacking process. I dislike it almost as much as I dislike packing. I’m taking it step by step, and I’m starting to see my apartment take shape. Slowly but surely, I’m feeling at home.
I’m excited that my mother will be visiting in a couple of weeks so that she can put her motherly stamp on my apartment. In the meantime, I’ll settle for unpacking, one box at a time, while becoming a little too spoiled by Directv.
Until next time…