Torn

There are like twelve days until I say "Peace out, Chicago," and run enthusiastically back into the arms of the West Coast.

I'm torn.

One part of me is ready to go right NOW. Honestly-- I'm done packing (I'm living out of a suitcase), and all of my thoughts are on finding an apartment in Seattle. I can't do that until I'm there. So I want to go NOW. I want to see where I will be living and just start getting settled. I want to go to my place of work, hand in my paperwork and get my ID badge picture taken. I want to ride my bike there to gauge what time I'll have to leave before my shift. I want to find a GYM close by. I want to find the nearest cheap grocery store, the closest Costco, and the Starbucks. I want to figure out the public transportation system and get involved with something-- whether it be coaching soccer or doing something triathlon related. Menatlly, I am already in Seattle, but have to wait twelve more days before I can physically be back on the west/best coast.

The other part of me is realizing how much I like my job here. Given-- once it was publicized that I am leaving, some aspects have taken an ugly turn. Despite stupid scheduling and petty issues, I have come to feel a part of the community of my floor and workplace. I trust my colleagues and I think they're slowly starting to trust me. I know the phone numbers, I know who the attendings are and what residents are on what service. I have my favorite patients and finally know how to get to x-ray without getting lost (...it took awhile). In the past couple of months, things have started to gel a little bit, and now I'm leaving. Don't get me wrong-- each day is something new and for everything I know, there are at least four things I am still trying to wrap my head around. Recently I have seen that indeed I have been making progress and all the stress and anxiety over the year has not been in vain. I genuinely enjoy my job and feel very fortunate and blessed to be able to truthfully make that claim. And I am scared spitless to walk away from it.
As much as I bellyache about Chicago, I know it. Well-- I know how to survive in it for the most part. I know what roads are good to bike on and what roads will get you killed or worse-- doored. I know not to ride on the LakeShore trail during rush hour because it's worse than driving traffic. I have my three grocery stores within a two mile radius where I can get everything I need for a reasonable deal. I know how the El works and am increasingly confident in busses. I have people that I know here and while we may not be best of friends, I KNOW them and they know me. I can go back to North Park and see a handful of friends within seconds of stepping on campus. I am connected in the community and I like that. I have proven to myself that I can survive independently in a big and unknown city, and it was hard! As much as I am looking forward to avoid a six month winter, I am feeling slight twinges of nostalgia for the past five years I've been here.

So I can only hope. Hope that the inevitable stress and anxiety of starting new in Seattle will bear the same, if not better fruit. Hope that I don't mind the rain a lot and that Seattle won't have another freak winter. Hope that biking is the practical option everyone says it will be. Hope that I will be welcomed in my new workplace. Hope that the rotating position opens up in the promised amount of time. Hope that the increased rent doesn't suck me dry and extend my loan repayment period. Hope that I make new friends and grow a social life. Hope that I find a gym that is close to home and close to work, is open 24 hours, reasonably priced, and has a nice pool and good spinning classes. Hope that I find an apartment that fits me and my insane amount of boxes with free laundry. Hope that it works out with few and far between meltdowns.

Only time will tell, and these last twelve days will either fly by or drag on. We'll see!