Home Again

Home is where, again?

I am sitting here at the table with the requisite three beverages, my notebook, the new novels in Spanish that I purchased from El Pendulo, a handful of pens and my computer. I can hear the noises of traffic outside the windows. It is not too cold right now. There are a variety of fruits and vegetables on the kitchen counter that probably won't all get used before they go bad. The cupboards are full of cans of things and bags of others. Some pork chops sit in the fridge waiting for me; I know Agt.3L will not know what to do with them. We haven't sat on the couch in ages, probably because it is covered with my random clutter of souvenirs and books and maps, or maybe because we never watch TV and there are no lamps for reading books. My clothes hang quietly in the closet and my shoes are piled in heaps beneath. My shelves are stuffed with assorted beauty items, coins, papers and folded (or not quite folded) clothes. This has become my home. I know this place. It is dependable. I don't know when I am going to have a home again.

There is nothing but gray in my life right now. It is one big gray area. There are some bright points of light but an absence of drive and passion. Not very long ago, I knew exactly what I wanted. It was so clear and true and right... right up until it was wrong. I didn't need to know how or when, I just knew what, and that everything would be just fine. But that feeling is not here anymore. I can't figure out where it went or where any feelings went. I feel a bit like I am watching myself struggle and that I should really jump in and help, but I'm not sure where to start. Agt. 3L always says you should put intention into it. I need to put my intention into something, but me? Why me? Haven't I tried hard enough on me already? And at the same time, haven't I avoided me long enough?

Should I relax and concentrate on one thing at a time or should I get that long term what-I'm-going-to-do-with-the-rest-of-my-life thing ironed out? When I am cooking, I panic that I am not learning Spanish. When I am studying Spanish, I panic that I am not writing my essays for grad school applications. When I am researching schools, I panic that I have not been in touch with my friends and family. When I spend my time on the email, I get sucked into Facebook and blogs and shopping and then panic that I need to be cooking for Agt.3L. Repeat. Right now I am trying to read these novels, write in my journal, gchat and blog at the same time and now I am panicking that the house will not be clean in time for me to pack my bags.

They say, home is where the heart is. Has anyone seen it? My heart? I know I had it around here somewhere... I think I feel it breaking again but I can't seem to get my hands on it.