When I came to visit California last year, I could not get over the sunshine. I awoke each morning with the same exclamation: "It is so beautiful outside today!" My boyfriend tried to tell me that it was like this everyday, but it did not stop my gleeful cries. I couldn't help but gush about how amazing it was outside. Being so used to the very occasional sunny day in Pittsburgh, I savored each day. We drove around with the top down on his 2003 silvery-blue Thunderbird and I got a little sunburned. We went to Sonoma and tasted the wine that grew from the earth that was constantly touch by the sun's rays. Brilliant.
So now I'm back and I'm here for a longer stay. I've been to California for three days. I've barely spent one moment outside.
What's wrong with me?
I think I've been putting a lot of pressure on California. With all the fault lines and earthquakes, I don't think it needs it. I was betting on being happy here. The sun and Sal made me so happy last year. But that was a vacation. This is the summer. I'm here and I have a ton of work to do. My independent study on the Beat poets and Muir Woods/Ecotourism. Interviewing applicants for Weave. I've been writing. So that's good. But while I'm in the state of California, the state I really find myself in is a blurry one. A blurry, transitional, slightly-depressed state that is now resenting some of this delicious sunshine that I adored so much last year. Who knows when we will find an apartment and get settled into the city? I find myself lacking the skills to know how to be productive without a routine, my desk, my books and my car. I don't have any answers yet.