I forgot to mention yesterday that it was my last day of work.

It was nice, my boss was sad to see me go and I was sad to go. Coworkers dropped by throughout the day to wish me luck in the Peace Corps and to make sure I let them know how things are going. My boss wrote me a nice note in a card.

But now I’m sitting in my bedroom at my parents house and I’m wondering where I am. I haven’t been a student for a few months now and now I no longer am employed. Granted, my situation is temporary but what do I call it? Waiting? I’ve been spending the past two weeks going through everything I own. I get rid of things when I can and I put the rest into boxes. Those boxes go into the attic, directly above my desk. They’ll sit there for twenty-seven months until I come home and move out again.

I wrote a friend tonight and I told her that I feel like I’m in limbo. My life at home isn’t dead but it isn’t really living. I’m just waiting for Charon to ferry me across the sea, leaving all of my friends and family to live their lives on this shore. Don’t worry, I paid him for a return trip.

When I get back, I’ll climb into the attic and bring my life back down. It’ll be preserved as it is right now. Preserved in limbo while everyone who didn’t come with me will have been moving forward for two years. I’ll be moving forward too, just elsewhere. It makes me wonder, what’s the point in me saving anything?

Maybe I’m starting to think about some of the consequences of the Peace Corps that I’ve been avoiding for a while or maybe I just really don’t want to clean my room. You tell me.