Autumn is coming to Chicago: the trees are starting to turn colors, and there is a chill in the air when I step outside my door in the morning. Soon, sooner than I'd like to admit, the trees will be completely bare, branches scratching together in the wind, waiting for a fresh coating of ice and snow. My thoughts naturally turn to warmer climates.
I hate the cold. The only time snow seems romantic or scenic is at Christmas; any other time, and I'd rather be sipping lemonade by a pool. I may have been born in the Midwest and endured countless cold winters, but I have always been a Californis Girl at heart.
I'm still fairly terrified of this upcoming move. There is so much that still needs to be done, and I will still be pretty short on the funds needed for the move. I've been trying to find a second job to make a little extra (I'll still be short around $1100 by the end of December), but I've had no luck, and in the meantime I'm setting up eBay auctions and trying to take in more commissions. I'm getting there, I'm just not there yet. And, I still have no idea whether I'll be able to find a job in LA, which is a must before I can move there. So, stress, stress, stressity stress.
But, for all that, I'm excited too. I'm starting to really feel like the move is happening; not just an amorphous idea, half-formed in the back of my head, but real. I truly believe that next winter I'll be 2000 miles away from here, wearing a jacket in December and maybe even sleeping with the window open in February. No digging my car out of the snow (I'm really looking forward to that!) or chattering my teeth when I climb out fom under the covers in the morning. When the leaves are brown back here, I'll be driving by green palm trees.
I still need a few miracles to make it happen, but I have faith. Autumn is going to be very different next year.
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