From Cairo to Kentucky

The last few weeks have been hard.  I haven’t really felt like doing any of the things I like to do.  Socializing, reading, listening to podcasts, writing, even going for walks! The only things I’ve forced myself to continue doing were my morning worships and weekly exercise routines.  (And for those of you who know me, you know it’s bad when my husband is feeling more social than I am!)  Even though I recognized “it”, named “it”, and called “it” out, all I could do was wait for the transition blues to pass.   I can’t say I’m in the clear.  I can only say that for the time being, I’m feeling better. A few things triggered this month’s dip in my transition curve.   For starters, we’ve been in Kentucky now for about three months.   Actually three months today! And each month has been different.   The first month everything was new and grand.   Every day was a new experience and finding new routes home were adventures I was up for.   I made friends in the community, started a class

This week my mind has been in a fog.   On Monday, I was happily chatting with coworkers at a mini-potluck we were having during lunch when my boss came on over the loudspeaker.   I didn’t hear what he said, but my to my surprise, my tablemate said, “Oh, that’s you he’s calling!” I figured he needed me to cover for another teacher last minute, so I quickly collected the remainder of my lunch—I wasn’t going to leave that piece of peanut butter pie behind—and headed to the office.   As I walked in, my boss, looking a little stressed, asked me, “Is that your car parked out on the curb?” It took me a moment to remember and then, I stammered, “Y-e-s!” I’d forgotten to move it after I’d parked it there over two hours ago to make it easier to unload some donations I’d brought for the family resource center. Now it was blocking a bus full of children from leaving school.   Yikes! Exit me looking very embarrassed and apologetic. But the one thing I have been thinking about all week, and