Springtime Intoxication

Maybe we just have days when chaos touches us, like little eddies in the river of worldly sanity.

There is something about this time of year that does something to me. It's moving time. Every year for the last four years, in the last weeks of April and beginning of May, I have prepared to move--sometimes it was home to my parents, sometimes it was just to a different apartment across town. But its definitely getting to be a habit. I think my body can sense the move coming, and it triggers a real, emotional response.

Last year at this time, I was half-packed, the windows were flung open in my upstairs bedroom, and together with my roommate Emily, I was rapidly devouring the Twilight series for the first time. There was--absolute freedom. Of course I had finals, but that semester I didn't have any that I was particularly worried about. I was free to enjoy the springtime air, which is intoxicating in and of itself.

This year the freedom isn't so heady. I'm moving back to my parents house, with no job prospects in the offing, and no real idea of how I will occupy myself (and my checkbook) for the next two months. But that springtime air still does something to me. It makes me want to sleep with all the windows open, if not outside entirely. It stirs my creative juices, and makes me want to delve into a delicious new book. Though, I don't think anything will stir me the way Twilight did. I think I read it at the absolutely perfect time.

It makes me want to go to Red Cliffs with the gang, or down to St. George to enjoy the roses at the temple, with a trip to Larsens after. And most of all, it makes me want to hop in my car and drive forever--just keep on driving with the sun behind me and the wind in my hair. This is the power the season holds on me--and I don't mind one bit.