Hyperventilating

Once the initial shock of moving a whopping 1,000 miles away from friends, family and familiarity wore off, that inevitably gave way to excitement akin to what I used to feel as a hyper-anxious kid on Christmas Eve. It felt like one big giant present of opportunities.

So now, being the bipolar-leaning individual that I am, I waffle between the two extremes: dread at saying goodbye to my favorite Mexican restaurant, knowing there surely won’t be enchiladas that amazing anywhere, and to the crazy neighbors whose lives are more interesting than a soap opera and to the little Vietnamese restaurant where Russ and I had our first date and then on the flip side, pee-in-my-pants excitement about the chance to live somewhere new and different and about finally getting a chance to wear that super stylish long coat I’ve always wanted to wear and about maybe having good hair days for the rest of eternity now that I’ll be rid of the skin-drenching Carolina humidity.

I’m sure this back-and-forth roller coaster of emotions will continue for the foreseeable future, which means Russ is in for a treat. A girlfriend who’s likely to be giddy with excitement or break down into convulsive sobs on a dime — Why, that’s  every guy’s dream, right?

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