1:47pm the movers left about an hour ago. Having the furniture feels weird. the last four months have been rushed. Change was forced on me. Probably for the best. I needed to get out of Dana Point. I needed a fresh start. Arizona has been adventure up to this point. I didn’t really slow down to think. I knew I was leaving “home” coming here. but it never felt permanent. Until now. Having the trappings of home with me in Adventureland changes the energy. I assumed it would. I thought I would feel more at ease. Secure. But the opposite is true. I feel exiled.

11:58am movers are still here. All the stuff is in the house. They have been unloading since 9:30am. It is hot outside. In the 90’s. The space is smaller than Dana Point. The furniture looks nice but cramped. I will move things around and make space.

8:16am I have moved all the temporary furniture out of the bedrooms and living/dining room. Movers aren’t here yet. I am sitting on the mission style bench in the kitchen. A little different perspective. I am drinking coffee, watching my fish. I have been feeding her from a trial packet that is almost empty. And is probably five years old. I bought her new food. The pieces are too big. She is struggling to eat them! I feel emotionally attached to the fish. She is my roommate. apparently I am pretty lonely. I am getting emotionally attached to my two little plants too. I need to re-pot them. An employee gave me some potting soil. I should do that later today.

When I first started as the chaplain living in Utah my wife was still in California. Bored and lonely I would grab my dog on Friday afternoons and head to wyoming. There I would spend time with my dad, mom and brother. I would go to church as a congregant ir as a worship leader (by then my dads copd symptoms had worsened. I was preaching every other Sunday) On Sunday afternoons I would drive back to utah. As I approached Weber canyon I imagined myself a warrior going into battle. I respected work. I accepted the challenge it offered. I saw my role as simple. I was to go in to the battlefield, give all my effort for the week, then on the next Friday return to Wyoming and family. Arizona has similar energy. I respect the work. I accept the challenge. I drop in for two weeks. I give all I have to be successful. To be a good boss. A good employee. After two weeks I return to my family and California.

I am picking up the apartment to get ready for the furniture to arrive. I feel the strange mix of sad happiness that comes with something ending. Coming to Arizona has been hectic. Back and forth from California, emptying one apartment, moving to another. Working full time. I have anticipated the furniture arriving because it meant comfort. Now it means the end. This furniture was bought while we were in Dana point. While it was on the truck this past month there was still a space between Arizona and California. Now all the familiar California things will be here. Change is good. Arizona is the place I need to be. It is just one more California loss I accept

5:09pm They finally called to deliver my furniture. tomorrow morning between 8am and 10am.

1:03pm I thought more about the tattoo design. I have a better idea of what it will look like and where it will go.

7:04am I signed up for a personal stylist subscription service. I am getting old. My style is getting older. I need to have fresh clothes at least.

My original idea was to take these posts and create a permanent record. I might still do that. But the value is in the volume more than quality.

With the WIL I am more in love with the past me. The past memory. I accept that. I would rather remember what we were, what I was, than try to find it again or recreate it with someone else. That means I will feel loneliness. But I would rather endure loneliness than lose my memories. Lose my hope.

Back in November when my mom was in the hospital I drove by the WIL’s house. I saw her through the window. My mind couldn’t process it. For so many years I would text her, call her, tell her I was coming. Or that I had been there. I couldn’t reach out to her. The feelings I had driving away were awful. My guts turn gross and twisted remembering it.

The tattoo on my arm is for her. I never told anyone except her that. The clock is set to our anniversary. The words are her handwriting. The symbol is for us. It covers most of my arm but it isn’t enough. The meaning is too opaque, even from her perspective. I am going to get another tattoo for her. I know what I want. I am deciding on style and placement.

3:34am if I go back to California I would live in San Clemente. It is enough like home to have everything I love about California while not touching the nerves that broke me in January.

I have been getting headaches this past week. Allergies. The dust, wind blowing, and whatever is in the air makes my nose run and eyes water. I get headaches. They aren’t acutely painful but they make me nauseous. I can’t function. I get grouchy. I am not attentive to my responsibilities. I am a diminished asset.

Arizona weather is discombobulating. California the wether was nice. There Is variance. Now is the grey, colder time of spring in California. Every day on arozona is the same. It is summer now. It will be summer later. Every day is summer.