Back in Kansas
Never mind the expense of moving halfway across the country and how it may kill my credit score. Never mind having to adjust to a new place, even one I grew up in and know like the back of my hand. What annoys me about moving back to Chicago is that there’s no one to get annoyed with.
In California, I was annoyed almost from day one when I stepped off the plane, from the way they stood around in the grocery store casually clutching their carts waiting for a patron to move, to the way they refused to make eye contact. Instead, they’d look over your head, under your head, at your chin or around it. I called it the “California hello,” especially the over-the-head look. On the whole, I found the whole lot of them annoying. And if English wasn’t the semi-official language and it wasn’t part of the continental United States, I would have thought I was in a foreign country.
So I have been back in Chicago for three days now, shopping in their stores, standing in line with the natives bundled up for winter, ordering deli with the best of them, and I haven’t been annoyed even once, even the several times someone has honked at me on the Eden’s Expressway or in downtown Chicago, I haven’t gotten annoyed or irritated with anyone at all.
Maybe something knocked it out of me. Maybe it was the drive back here or the charge from the moving company letting me know that we may be back on the home turf of Kansas. I only hope that it doesn’t take off my edge or that my next post won’t be of me sitting in a rocking chair and painting pastoral scenes. Holy moly and heaven help us all.