Dear Claire,

I miss you!

I finally have access to the internet, and all I can think to write are self-pitying thoughts of how hard it is to live in Tennessee.

The truth is that we have a beautiful home here; people are friendly; the food is delicious; and I am even more in love with my husband.

BUT I am lonely.  I miss Sacramento a lot.  I miss drinking wine with my friends.  I miss riding my cruiser nine blocks to work and yoga.  I miss working as a massage therapist.  I miss the Sunday morning farmers' market under the freeway.  And I'm feeling sad and angry about it right now.

Jason and I are sitting at a coffee shop this morning.  He is working from home today, and asked me to join him for coffee this morning.  I got excited about being asked out on a date, but he made sure I knew he wouldn't be paying any attention to me.  That's fine, I said, as long as I can play on the internet while you work.

He said I should drive, so I drove here, with Jason as my passenger and coach.  It was one of my many, never-endingingly painful driving lessons.  Every time I drive stick shift I cry and I yell and I damn the whole world with my curses.  It scares me how angry it makes me, but I have to learn to drive here, and provide myself ever-more opportunity to feel embarrassed that Jason is seeing my ugly underbelly of perfectionist pride.  I just want life to feel easy and comfortable like it was back home.  (That was a lie.  It was not easy and comfortable back home either, but I want to believe that right now.)

So here we sit in silence with our coffee.  Jason is typing and I'm typing and trying to feel good about being here, but I don't.  I want to come home.  I might feel better once I can drive and explore with new friends here.  And if I wrote this last night, you would have heard my excitement about doing massage from home (I had my first client!).  For today, however, you will just know about the immense pain of driving stick shift and the great injustice of challenge and change.

Love,
Carolyn