Andrea in No-Landrea

As of the last day of school, I have felt as though I have entered a sort of no-man's land. 

Room 208 is no longer my classroom.  The Champions, no longer my team mates.  My parking spot has probably already been claimed. I am neither a SVMS Knight, nor a Shekou Gecko.  When customers at the greenhouse ask what I do for a living, I tell two stories.  What I did and what I will do. Neither really answer their question.  

I have found renters, lovely people who will no doubt adore my house as much as I do, or more precisely, did. I have started emptying my house, so it is no longer my home.  I joke with friends about living out of my car, but more or less, it is true. I live neither in Liberty, nor, Overland Park, nor KCK, nor Shen Zhen. 

Soon I will have to start saying good-byes.  This hasn't started yet, but I sure am not saying many hellos either. My social life is sort of on pause for now-- focusing my energy on my dear friends and not on expanding my social circle.  There will be time for making new friends soon... I hope. 

Not to say that all this makes me sad.  I am not. Far from it. (Getting rid of things has been surprisingly pleasurable.)  It is just a strange way of existing for me.  Apart from traveling and going to college, I have been very successful at putting down roots.  I have though about leaving before, but "the grass is always greener" mantra stopped me.  "The grass right here is fine by me...  here's a good patch." My sister is made of different stuff.  I have always admired her in that way.  Although difficult, she goes.  The spirit leads, she trusts and she goes. 

So, I will too. 

It's a weird place this No-Landrea.  I don't have a map.  Garmin doesn't work here... It's like Alaska. Although I've already taken some wrong turns, I've encountered some fantastic guides along the way.   Most likely I'll make it out alive, but when I do, today will already be tomorrow.

How's that for weird?