Rogue 3, one of my friends from the Quad-Cities, sent me a text yesterday asking when I’d be home for Thanksgiving, and so I told him that I wouldn’t be because I had to work.
And it doesn’t really bother me. I’m the low guy on the ladder and I wasn’t even employed at the time they collected day off requests for the holidays. So better luck next year, but it’s no big deal since I’ll just see my family at some other time. One holiday season without family will certainly not be the end of the world (plus, my family is coming down for Christmas).
But the conversation that I carried on with Andrew (Rogue 3) was one of the first times I’ve been homesick since I got to Florida. I’ve wished to be in St. Louis and closer to Jean plenty of times, but this was different. A distinct yearning to be in the Quad-Cities came to me for the first time.
And it stuck with me for a lot longer than I expected, because I guess it was the first time I knew where I was, what I was doing and knowing that it’s not temporary. Sure, I’d told myself those things before, but I guess I either didn’t believe it or else just forgot.
Once the feeling passes, though, I’m left with another feeling. It’s a little bit of disbelief and a lot a bit of relief. Against all odds, I got a job. And I still don’t think I’m used to it.