For all the ire it draws, winter weather rejuvenates and enlivens me every year. There’s something comforting about the possibility that I could peer out my window one moment and everything will be different, obscured in a curtain of swirling Midwestern mayhem. An ice storm is set to hit this evening and the anticipation is almost intoxicating — I want to see and feel my world changing. That’s how I feel about life right now, too. It’s changing, but not yet a swirl; it’s a slow, delightfully dizzying spin.
Two weeks ago I got into my top-choice law school. I heard the news as I walked to my job from an off-site work meeting, happy tears clinging to my frozen skin in the morning cold. I don’t think they’ve completely melted; I’m still in disbelief I got in.
Part of me is greedy for all the changes the next few months will bring; I wish they could swirl in like the snow and rain, blinding what was visible, familiar and comfortable. I love my job, my apartment, my volunteer work and my friends in Des Moines, but every day, there are little reminders that it’s time to leave — and that’s OK. My impatience is confirmation that I’m moving on to something that’s right for me, that’s more challenging while fitting into my existing advocacy goals. Continue reading