At 5:45 this morning I stood in the dimly lit shower, raspily crooning the words to "Leaving on a Jet Plane" to myself.
I have left the East Coast boys and girls. And it is deeply depressing to think on. Walking around McGill's cavernous and bustling campus and out into the busy streets of Montreal I could help thinking how alien it felt. I miss the openess, the familiarity, the sense of community. Most especially I miss the feeling of having something to look forward to. I mean that in a way that is way way less depressing than it sounds. I mean that I don't know many people here yet to make plans with, my apartment is so crammed with stuff I can't even think about rifling through my suitcases and grabbing workout stuff, let alone get started on setting up my apartment. I am unsure of how to get myself some forward momentum. But this is only the first day, so I will stop being so critical.
If I had some monetary funds I know exactly what I would be doing: exploring the myriad of boutiques and vintage shops within mere minutes of my apartment. It is a cruel cruel joke. I have 60$ in my bank account until the end of the month and am surrounded by beautiful material things.
I am going to miss the East Coast without question. Leaving behind crying friends and familiar streets makes me feel desperate for breath. But it is time for a new adventure...
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