It’s 7:41, and a time of reconstruction as the components of my life are gradually reintroduced to my room. The desk containing my computer has reclaimed its prior place, my bed is unmade, but at least present in its entirety once again; the cabinet containing my clothes, and the literature collection riding abreast of it has not yet reappeared, I assume it’s still somewhere, the problem with somewhere is that somewhere is never anywhere specific.
I am a man of order and process, averse to chaos, save that with with which I choose to surround myself; my protests at the deprivation of the privacy and space I covet were frequent, loud and according to mother unnecessary, though I can’t agree with her in this regard, I will concede that on the whole the carpet is an excellent addition to my environment.
Throughout this experience I became depressed for various reasons, not having access to my Gilmore Girls DVDs served to highlight these moments, and to help me to better appreciate just how large a part of my recovery process the show is.
At this point the contents of the office, including all the network infrastructure have not been restored to their former state and so I can’t actually post this yet, in delta between restoration and chaos is where I now lie, dwelling on the seasons, especially autumn, long deceased now, as winter to summer, and summer to spring, each significant in its time but autumn is where my mind dwells as I prepare to make one of the greatest changes in my life to date.
Monday is my autumn, bringing with it death, and the promise of a new life in the summer, which begins 15 weeks from Monday, after the bridge has been crossed and my journey through life can truly begin.
My mind is a bog in which I currently walk, sinking into myself, but moving forward in spite of it as I worry about just exactly where I’ll spend my autumn’s first night, hopefully not on the street, but I shall engage the accommodation people in this regard on the morrow.
My Internet is back, and this pleases me greatly, as now I can check the status of my accommodation application; respite shall not come for them on the accord of this graces granting, it behooves me to probe them evermore, until I find a suited place to rest.
This, for now is an end, not the end, but an end all the same, until next time, where we begin from this ends end.