The end and beginning of familiar

Here I am. It’s sunday night here in Leschi, and the neighbour’s dogs are yapping–of course, inexplicably. I can hear the water outside… or maybe it’s just the sound of I-90 to the south. My brand new job starts tomorrow, and I’ll admit I’m a bit wigged out. You know, it’s that make or break moment: see if I actually live up to the interviews and hype that got me hired. If I live up to what had my wonderful HR rep driving me all over town for a day and a half. If I live up to my own expectations.

I manage to allay those fears and worries through the wondrous application of heart-rending loneliness. I miss my girlfriend more than I can express via text, which must be something, because the livejournal kids out there seem to have cornered the market on long sappy wo-is-me tales.

I miss my family. My nephews. I even miss the friends that were complete douchebags to me when I left and didn’t even bother seeing me off or saying bye. I miss familiarity.

I realised something tonight, though, as I was driving back from picking up my car in Woodinville (long story)–soon this will all become very familiar. The crazy hairpin turns on Lake Washington Boulevard. The streets that terminate, only to start up again roughly 50 feet to the left. The mouthwatering nachos from the mexican place across the street from work. And avoiding driving on major thoroughfares like the plague. Some day in the not so distant future, it will all become second nature.

So here’s to not worrying. I have my new home. I have my car. I have a great job. And I have my “health”: