I am still alive, just.

I have moved to a new house, a new neighborhood, and semi new roommates. I am sharing a room with Larisa, which pretty much sucks, but I'm dealing. She just brought me some tomato soup and crackers and massaged my shoulders, and I told her that I expect some cheesecake for dessert. I have said goodbye to the big, ugly green house in Wolseley. There was too much crime there anyways.

I like this new place. I feel a greater sense of peace, that is likely due to the fact that I am done moving.

Good Story: On Friday in my social welfare class, I was mildly chewing on the end of my pen (NOTE: It bothers me when other people chew on their pens, and I forget that I have tendencies to do the same)...when out of the blue my hand, or head (not sure which) gave a mighty jerk (definitely not a result of nearly falling asleep) and the pen created a small crevice in my mouth which has now developed into what is scientifically known as a cankersore. I hate cankersores. They come at really bad times. Like when you are stressed.

I am trying to write a reflection paper for practicum. I am stuck at the first question: What was your goal for these past two weeks at practicum? All I can think of is that I hoped to abstain from running into the bathroom crying, but that sounds rather un-social workey. I think it will get better. Or not. Either way it is a great "learning experience!" Working with people who have addictions feels pretty daunting right now. There is only so much that a book or professor or power point can teach, and right now I am feeling like the big cat that lived in our garage and would mew mournfully like this: "Mehewwwwewwoooohhhhhh". He was feeling trapped by his circumstances, just like me.

I am slowly figuring out the bus system. I have only been late for work once so far, and I think that I am getting better at walking onto the bus without falling over when the bus driver pulls away. Ironically, I am enjoying public transit. My bus pass feels like a golden ticket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with special powers. I just flash it at the driver and he nods his head and away we go. Kind of miraculous.

On Tuesday after an orientation at the Methadone Clinic and a desperate attempt at finding resources for my papers, I am departing this city for a road trip HOME for Thanksgiving! I love being home in the Autumn season. I get to help my dad with firewood, and make apple juice in the ol' apple press and drink rooibos chai with my mom. Pure bliss.