Changes

I'm lying in an actual bed. It's the first time that I can say that in six months. The last time I was in an actual bed was August 15. I've lasted six months without a home. Granted, my survival is largely due to my friends' generous hospitality in allowing me to stay at their homes. Mostly just one set of friends. Having finally found a place to stay, I couldn't be happier. I just determined that I'm related to one of my roommates(very distantly related, mind you).
So I was going to ramble on about the 'homeless experiment'. But I won't. Nobody really wants to read about me angsting over values and ideals. So I won't put you through it. There's no point. What I will say is that- plans are never certain. Two weeks ago, I thought that everything was going alright. I had a steady job, some sort of quasi-girlfriend, a plan for the next five years, and Gordon was still prophet. Now, I'm not homeless anymore, I've got a job that doesn't pay me everyday and ends the middle of April, I'm quite single again, and my plan is increasingly less attractive. As much as you might think that you have things figured out, you don't. It's how we deal with that uncertainty that defines us. OR something like that, I suppose.