Going home...weird

Sorry about the long time since my last post. This always seems to happen around this time of year: A lack of writing in general on my part.

So, Husband recently got a job...in America. In my home state, no less, and we'll be living like probably 15 minutes from where I grew up. We'll be moving back to the States mid-December.

I am a big ol' bag of mixed feelings on the subject. I am so excited and happy that Husband has a great job, which I know is exactly what he wants to do. Who is lucky enough to get their dream job right out of school? I'm also happy to go home, where I know how everything works and I'm never completely unsure about things like how to get maintenance in my house. Also, America has one huge appeal to me: Nature. I really can't wait to take a jog next to the foothills, overlooking woods, streams and golden fields. AND. I'm tired of moving. So tired. I HATE moving, and I am so ready to just be in one place, for once. Not packing every six months. I want to sink my feet into the earth and grow roots.

At the same time, though, I feel super sad about leaving. I have already had to say goodbye to several people that I know I won't see again for a very, very long time...if ever. I feel like I am just an expert at saying goodbye, so much so that I'm starting to feel numb every time I do it. Also, I'm just sad about not living overseas anymore. Even though it can be frustrating, it's also a crazy experience that not everyone is lucky enough to have. And to be honest, I never saw myself living right where I grew up. I always saw myself in a foreign country, dressed in foreign clothing, speaking foreign words, having a foreign life. It's hard, suddenly, to adjust your expectations for your own life.