It is fully possible to be too tired to do anything but drag oneself to bed after work every day, except I just moved into my new place on Sunday and so I have to drag myself through room-organizing every evening before I can fall into bed and sleep like there is no alarm clock in the world that could possibly wake me up. I want to cry when my alarm clock goes off.
Already I have started to look forward to my walk to and from the bus stop. The train is a few blocks further, but the bus is just a quick little walk down quiet streets, and when I get off at the end of the day I can feel my stress fall away as the streets get progressively more neighborhood-like in the three blocks from the main road.
It is almost as silent in this house at night as in my house in Universe City. You would never know that there are two highways not two miles away. My room is bigger than one could possibly expect out of an old house - probably twice the size of my room in Universe City, with a huge closet - and right now I even have my little orange couch in here. (I could put it out in the living room, but there is a cat, and he has mangled the couch that is out there, and I have quite an affection for that little orange couch.)
I re-opened my library card first thing, and now I have a list of books on hold again already so that I can walk up the hill on my lunch hour and pick them up, just like I did for two and a half years before I had to leave Gone West.
I work, and I walk to the coffee place, and I explain over and over again all day long where I've been for the last few years to everyone who keeps asking. I'm back, and I'm happy to be back.
And yet, I can hardly bear the idea that this weekend I must go back to Universe City and take the last of my things from my office there and leave behind the key that gets me into that old, familiar building. I want to keep Universe City even as I get Gone West back.