Homesick

I want to go home. Everything is finally really catching up with me. This isn’t a vacation, this is life. I hate my apartment and up until this point I thought it was temporary. I thought I’d be able to move out in 2 months. Now I see that somehow I am roped into staying for the whole year, if I want my work and residency permit. And I’m dying. I don’t sleep well in my purple, ultra loud, room. And I can’t stand listening to anymore terrible music. I hate that my toilet doesn’t flush and my washer leaks. Every time I do laundry I have to mop the whole house. And all I really want is hug from someone who is in my family, who I know loves me. I just need someone (other than myself) to tell me everything will be alright.

I just want to sleep at night. I want to be able to run to relieve my stress. And to be able to go and buy cheddar cheese at a reasonable price. And I want to go dance at Roe Family Singers on Monday night and head to the Republic for $3 happy hour beers with my best friends.

I just keep reminding myself that I didn’t like Minneapolis at first, and when I left there I loved it. I keep trying to convince myself that there will come a point where I will love it here too. So when people ask me if I have decided if I’m going to stay 2 years or not I say I haven’t. But really I have. I will stay two years because that was the plan, and I’m not a woman who changes her plans easily. I know I need to stay for 2 years, for my own professional and self-development. Let’s just hope that in the 2^nd year I can get more than 4 hours of sleep a night and I’m not ill the whole time.