I'm Fractured from the Fall and I Wanna Go Home

Two.

It's the number of times I've moved across the country, completely uprooting my life ... giving up steady employment and the comfort of friends to bask in the unknown, the unexplored, the opportunities people said would be awaiting me, for I am young with a college degree and some work experience and some life experience and some collected years of nonsense and insanity under my belt. I haven't dabbled in anything too dangerous and I've done what I've had to do, or thought I had to do.

It's the uncertainty + my sensitivity + the words "the economy" said over and over again until they don't mean anything anymore (if those two words were supposed to explain anything to begin with) - money - time = the depths of despair I'm trying to pull myself out of right now.

Two is also the number of cats I've had in my life. The number of empty coffee cups on the table. The number of rings on my right ring finger. The number of eyebrows on my face. The number of times I've had my heart broken.

Actually, it was more like one and a half times that I've had my heart broken. The point is that I can't connect anything to anything; blame my failure on one misstep in particular. If there have been any missteps. Probably. It's difficult to retrace when I'm trying to celebrate the fact that I haven't derailed completely.

I'm a pessimist and I always have been. I'm trying to change that. Slowly. Baby steps. I will delight in this cappuccino. I will delight in the man at the cash register who looks uncannily like Don Knotts. I will delight in the bottle of Kasteel Rouge I recently acquired. I will delight in the number of bars in Brooklyn with cheap beer and free wifi in this, my time of need (especially for cheap beer and free wifi). I will delight in Chuck Bass from "Gossip Girl." I will delight in the fact I have moved to a city where there are four distinct seasons, where the leaves will change color and fall from the trees and get trampled underfoot and eventually covered with snow. I will delight in my digital camera. I will delight in the fact that as long as people keep posting job openings, I will keep applying for them, and eventually someone will call me, someone will interview me, someone will give me a job. It has to happen. Right? Statistically?