I could've posted it on the other blog, which would've made sense, because today, technically is my last day in Mankato before my dad shows up tomorrow at 8:30 in the morning (sorry I have to come so late he told me) with a trailer and his truck and most likely a crabbier-than-usual attitude, which I easily forgive because in the past seven years he has moved me into and out of a lot of random apartments and homes in Southern Minnesota. I will do myself a favor and not remind him that in 3 months I will be moving once again. At least by that time I will hopefully not have accumulated as much stuff. Actually, strike that. I'll have been working with Graywolf for 1 month, and they give me free books of "Hurt Poetry."
Hmmm. The last day. This last week has been odd. We had a wonderful Memorial Day, wherein Christina and I took Truman for a long walk back behind MSU. Then we spent some quality time with Chad, the chef, and stole some wood from back behind MSU. Wood that we clearly had discovered on the walk. Well, Christina knew it was there. She discovered that the gate was open enough for her Camry to fit through. There were Security cops back there. It was a sad little rush: running to the wood pile and then throwing logs in the trunk.
Unfortunately, I've been ill for the last couple of days. Off and on. Food won't stay down as often as it should. David told me, that with how often that's happening, that there might be a bug in my g-i tract. And then he told me to go to the doctor, which I am most certainly not doing. I don't even know where the doctor is in Mankato. I don't even know if I could afford the copay. Let's hope dinner stays down. Pretty gross, huh? Yeah, this new blog holds nothing back. It's the blog's nature. Does the funky title font work on your computer? It's called "Occidental."
Yesterday, Pier 1 called me because they weren't sure that I'd quit. There were rumors, they said. No, no, I said. I told the manager. I gave her my two weeks. They said, oh, okay.
I don't have anything wonderful or worldly to say about my last day here. I went on my last run yesterday, the same path I've been running for two years, snow, rain, humidity. The same path where I trained for the 10K, where I took David and Lance to run with me. The same path. I really liked running there. It was a little less than three miles, I got to jog through the shady park, I got to smell Jake's Pizza every afternoon. That path gave me strong legs and thick muscle. I really hope I'll find something like it on Friday in St. Louis Park.
It doesn't feel like I'm going anywhere. It doesn't feel like much of anything. I keep trying to remember my first days here in Mankato, and I really can't. All I recall is sitting with my little TV in my big living room at Southwood, before Reedo got there. I watched a lot of the olympics. I was excited for TA workshop to start, amazed that I was going to be a teacher, a student. That I'd be doing it for the next three years ahead of me. I was trying to find a job to support my more-than-broke-self. It was hot, and then oddly cold. The buildings at MSU smelled like Elementary school. I wasn't sure of what to expect. About anything.
Anyway, here I am in the green chair, watching the Price is Right, writing a blog wherein I wonder things and don't know what to expect. It's nice to know that so many things will never, ever change.
Same shit, different outfit.