Moving is hard. Even when it’s temporary. Even when it’s well-subsidized. Even when it’s to someplace you want to go.
It’s hard to feel at home in corporate housing. But there’s no place to call home right now. Our house in Rochester has been emptied out, the house we’ll be living in here will never be “our house” and is still occupied by its owners. I feel displaced, disconnected, discomforted.
I’m also feeling a bit isolated. My son is wonderful company, and we’ve enjoyed exploring the area—today we took the express bus into Seattle and wandered around the public market and library for a while. But I haven’t had much adult company since we arrived, and I miss my friends back home. I’ll be glad when my husband and older son arrive next week. I’ve probably used more minutes on my cell phone over the past five days than over the previous two months (happily, I have Cingular, which means I’ve got a ton of rollover minutes built up on my plan).
I’m sure that it will get better. I start work next week, and will have more adult contact. We’ll start connecting with other families, and have some social interaction to help keep us all sane. But right now I still feel off-balance and out of place.
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