divine angst

I was just thinking to myself how, three months ago, I was still waiting to hear about my last application—to that really big school in our nation’s capitol. And I remember thinking that I would probably end up on the waitlist, but that I wouldn’t be too upset by that. And that we’d probably end up going to that city anyway, so I could always switch enrollments at the last minute if I got in off the wait list.

I’m so glad that’s not how things happened.

I’m glad we know where we’re going, that we are free to go find an apartment next weekend. I’m relieved to know that I am going to My School and not to Some Other School. I am, if not happy, at least satisfied? or, again, relieved, to be applying for loans to My School knowing that I won’t have to scramble around at the last minute getting loans to Some Other School.

Basically, last fall, when I started all this, I had no idea how it would turn out. I had high hopes. My high hopes didn’t completely pay off, but in the end, everything turned out the best way it possibly could, I think. My School is a good fit for me. Our New City is a good fit for us. Even Mr. Angst’s school is a good fit for him. Everything fell into place the way it should have.

I can’t discount the possibility that things seem to have turned out so well just because we are both pretty flexible people and were willing to go where we needed to go; or because we are both pretty optimistic people and have spent some time getting excited about the schools we are attending. Even given those personality traits, though, I think things still turned out pretty well. Almost pat. (Not too pat—after all, Mr. Angst will be in class at night, which is still not an ideal situation. Just a little wrinkle, though.)

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I had one of those nostalgia moments, if you can call the emotion nostalgia when you’re remembering things that were only a few months ago. I was thinking about our house, our home, and how comfortable it was and how easily we could have stayed there. (I think these things a lot at night as I’m lying in bed. I’m not sure what about lying in bed provokes this sort of thing.) And I felt twingy, anxious almost, that we’ve really turned our lives upside-down.

But the morning light makes it all better. And more exciting. This is probably a pretty boring post, because I think I’m repeating things I’ve written before, but this is what’s on my mind right now.