Intensity
I’ve had myself quite a year, here. Well, and there. Not just here.
I began it getting ready for my last semester of library school and fretting about the librarian non-shortage and what it meant for my just-launched job search. It’s a rollercoaster, job-searching is. It’s putting yourself on the altar and handing knives to random passersby. It’s spending two of the most intense days ever, traveling and meeting people and talking and eating and minding my manners and trying to be impressive while still being plain ol’ me… and then doing it again, and again.
And then there’s moving, which is intensity of a completely different sort, a calculated frenzy of planning and fussing and annoyance that is probably the way it is to distract mercifully from the altogether different intensity of leaving a place you’ve lived in for eleven years.
There’s been some intense anger this year (and you should all be glad I kept most of it off-blog), some intense physical pain (though it only served me right), and some intense joy I’ll remember all my days.
All in all, I think I’m a little tired. I’ve been reverberating, sometimes as out-of-tune as the strings on my door-harp. If I’ve a goal for 2006, it’s settling down, letting the intensity go, and remembering how to tune myself to the right note, my note.