life is a tale

It's half way through the month and I've only posted once so I feel like I'm due, but I also don't feel like I have much to say. I've been struck lately by the blues, which makes writing undesirable (as well as doing much else) and I don't want to elaborate on my emotional state here because that would be useless and boring to read. These blues come and go... I fixated for a bit on Clark's birth and all that went wrong (only some of which I noted in his birth story post) and then wrote my doula several blaming emails. After a somewhat heated exchange we came to an amiable stopping point and now I'm more at peace with that. But the move is looming.

Here's the rub: Although I am my individual self, I am also a product of 20th and 21st century america, and here in middle class america this is the way life goes. We take jobs, we move, we adjust. We allow the new employer to pay for movers to pack up all the stuff we accumulate to keep us afloat, we drive across the country, we unpack, we live similar lives in a different climate. We move away from family, we move closer to family, we drive and fly to visit the family and friends we've left, we email and telephone and skype and blog, and our relationships grow and change. What we are doing by moving is nothing more than living our life, this life that I agreed to, this very one that I will look back on years from now laid out like a story in a book. In any case, thinking about it like that helps me panic less.