Back in Ohio.

I am feeling displaced.
Being in Wisconsin over break was comforting to some degree. People talk with a northern accent which I notice now and notice how quickly I slip into it. I even said things like: Something, something, eh? More specifically: Oh, how's that new Mexican restaurant doing, eh? I shoveled the driveway in 45 minutes flat- may not sound impressive, but my lines were straight and the snow was heavy.
However, my tolerance for cold was mocked by my family, my friends, and even YMCA employees (Oh, look here, da abominable snowman!).
My house didn't feel like mine. It doesn't help that all the furniture in my bedroom (save my mirror and hope chest) was removed and the wallpaper peeled off to show ghosts of care bear murals. I didn't live out of a suitcase but I did live out of a plastic tote that had to be kept up on the desk so the dog would not hide my clothes behind her favorite chair or the sofa.

Now I am back in Ohio, in my temporary makeshift home where there is never enough room and I am buried under books and papers.
When I was at my sister's beautifully decorated home on Christmas, I was paging through an Ikea (or Icky as my Tyler says) catalog. All the rooms were organized and beautiful. They looked like home. I want a catalog home. I want comfortable, organized furniture. It was perfectly coordinated and compact. I bet they always had fresh vegetables in the fridge, the drawers were always neat and not cluttered, and when they pulled up their pressed sheets to go to bed, they did not have anxiety dreams about shows they were directing or papers they had to write. I bet when they slept, they slept calmly and woke up with non-mussed hair and fresh breath. They patter down their hardwood floors to drink freshly squeezed orange juice and put on cute running clothes for that seven mile run during which they don't sweat, lose their breath, or hurt their knees.
Sigh.
Back in Ohio, I tried to color coordinate my closet which while satisfying did not invoke the comfort of the catalog bedroom in the Ikea catalog.
I don't know when or if I will ever have a beautifully decorated house. I don't think that necessarily makes a home, but neither does a color coordinated closet.
I think the feelings of displacement stem from the incredible uncertainty. I know I am leaving Ohio in six months. I know that I will then be moving to Wisconsin for a short time. After that, I don't know.
In the mean time, friends: beware. I will need to be more focused on organization and coordination. I think it's a coping mechanism. So, if I seem compulsive, give me your pens or pencils to organize. Or maybe I could put your books in alphabetical order. I like to file. I could make you a list. Plan your day. Anything. Just don't ask me what I will be doing next year.