The Wanderer

Once upon a time, I was moving to Utah.
I still am.
Last year I posted about how I had a feeling I needed to move to Utah and a few days, I'll be doing just that.
I don't know what it says that all I've done to pack, is put a bunch of books in a box, ordered two more books on Amazon and watched Netflix.
My suitcases are ready to be filled with clothes, my art supplies are calling to me to organize them, and my truck is saying "Change my oil already!!!"
Somehow, I always find my way back to the bay area. No matter how many times I've moved away, I've always come back...so I feel like this move is more of an extended vacation. One in which I find a job.
Last week, someone told me they are going to start calling me the Wanderer. Normally that would have bothered me. Being settled in one place, living like all my other 20/30-something friends sounds like something I should be doing. I used to not like being associated with the word 'wander'. It seemed like I was aimless, and didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Until I realized I like doing a lot of different things. It doesn't mean I don't know what to do with my life. I do know what I want to do, and being able to mosey around from place to place is just a part of it.
It's peaceful, not aimless.
It's a new year.
I know what I want to accomplish.
And I'm going to do it.
I'm excited.