I’ve been in America for 30 days. I spent my first 7 nights with a good friend and her family (also friends) and then Michael and Sam returned to Colorado and we spent the next 15 nights with some other good friends. This first 3 weeks felt very vacation-y, with out being an actual vacation. We’ve been in our house for the last week. Sleeping on the floor. We didn’t have to move to our house. Our friends were still happy to put us up, but we were feeling the need to try to establish a routine and try to make progress. Our container was supposed to come 22 Aug, but we were selected for inspection so it didn’t. Lucky us.
I’ve lived here before. I’ve lived in this exact city, in this exact neighborhood, in this exact house. So why is it so hard to return? Somedays it feels impossible. Like I don’t know how to do it. I’ve found a gym. I don’t know how I feel about it. It is nice to be working out again (a month off makes for some really painful DOMs), but it’s not the same as CrossFit Chiang Mai. I didn’t really expect that it would be, but I was hoping a bit. The other day, after the workout, two ladies were chatting with me and being really nice and I froze. Like a deer in headlights. I had no idea how to be friendly. So much for making new friends. I left the gym and found myself doing what I seem to do a bunch of lately. Crying in my car.
The day after this I was running errands and swung by Target. I saw a dress I wanted to try on so I parked my empty cart by the dressing room and went to try on the dress. It wasn’t right so I grabbed my cart and went off looking for stuff. Stuff I didn’t need. About the time I realized he only things I really needed were groceries I also realized that I’d grabbed the wrong cart. I had no idea what to do. A) Push the cart back to the dressing area? It had been probably 15 or 20 min. If it had been my cart that had gone missing I most likely would have already grabbed another and replaced the items. B) Abandon the cart right where I was, near the tablecloths, and walk to the front of the store and grab another cart? Yes, that made sense. (For some reason I never thought to take the cart to the front of the store with me and tell someone about my mistake.) About 20 min after I abandoned the cart a store employee comes up and asks me if I took the wrong cart at the dressing room and when I said I did he wanted to know where I’d left it. He was plenty friendly, but still I managed to walk away from this interaction in tears. I finished my grocery shopping and paid and left with a new awareness of my inability to be nice. And cried in my car. I should probably get some kleenex for my car.
In other news, we made this decision.