Speechless.

More like laryngitis. It's kind of stupid, really. I can't talk but I keep forgetting. I blame this cold I got a week ago. It's earned me a couple of days off work, though. If you can't talk, how can you teach? I hope it gets better over the weekend, though, because this is some kinda bull.

I have a lot to update you on. Some pretty cool things have been happening.

First, I sent the letter to my birth mother. It ended up being something like the letter I posted here.

Second, at the end of the Choose to Lose competition at the Y, I had lost 20 pounds. I don't know how exactly that happened, though, since two days before I weighed 4 pounds more than that. But whatever. I'm still fitting into the clothes I was wearing 4 years ago and that feels good. Am I satisfied? Not really. I'd like to lose a little more, but not this week. I just need to get out more, but since Michigan decided to return to December temperatures and I caught this cold, well, I've been out of the game for about a week. I feel like a sloth. Probably because I am one. I've been making every excuse. Today I didn't let myself go work out because I stayed home sick and had guilt.

I'm staying home tomorrow, too.

Things at work have changed. Again. The person who got to keep the other half of my current position asked if I'd like to trade with her and I agreed. So next year, if I'm there, I will be back to teaching technology. That doesn't make me want to cry.

I found a job I wanted, so I applied. I ended up getting a letter letting me know that they weren't going to hire for it due to proposed state budget cuts at the state level. I'd go on and on about how I hate this new GOP Governor, but this is not a political blog. Nor do I ever want it to be. That would be my father's blog.. I'd give you the URL, but I can't seem to find it.

I'm still "keeping my options open" regarding job hunting. I don't think that's a shock to anyone. I found a part time job but I don't know if we can afford if I went down to a part time job or two. Yay student loans and car payments. I dug my own hole on that one, I blame no one but myself.

And the most exciting news:

I got a letter back from my birth mother. I read it, then called my mom and read it again, started to post about it on Facebook, but then thought the better of it and called my dad, but couldn't get a hold of him. Later that evening, I called her and we talked and talked and talked for almost an hour.

It was crazy. I think I can safely say we're both bubbly people. And we have horrible timing. A bunch of times we started talking at the same time. It was awkward but exhilarating. So much fun. I've been driving by her house for years. I have three half brothers. I guess my birth father lives not far away, either. And her story really fleshed out the basic ideas I had in my head. She was going to marry him, but she woke up one day and realized moving away from her family at 17 to be a Navy wife wasn't really going to be the happily ever after she thought it would be.

And who can blame her? I thought picking up and moving to Australia was going to be a piece of cake. HA! It was hard to be away from familiar things. Somewhere between a hormonal withdrawal and homesickness I spent days on a futon crying my eyes out. Then near the end of my visit, on another hormonal bender, I felt like I was slogging though a one-minute-at-a-time existence. But that was because I was knocked up and every part of my body was kicking into high gear. Either that or it was the anxiety of having to tell my parents I was soon to become an unwed single mother. Regardless, I knew it was time to go home when my richest daydreams were visual fly-overs of streets I drove down almost every day for 24 years. Hardly exciting, but the desire to see them again was almost overwhelming.

Even moving an hour away sucked for a while. It wasn't like I couldn't just jump in the car and go home whenever I wanted. It wasn't that simple. Or maybe it was but the excuses not to up and go were compelling enough to keep me curled up on my futon, staring out my big picture window and across the boulevard I lived on down there. I remember crying to my ex-boyfriend (still thanking God every day that one didn't work out) about it. He said, "What can I do?" I said, "Can you move this little town closer to home?" He said he couldn't. Whatever. He didn't care enough, that's all.

Once I got beyond homesickness there, I looked upon the time I lived in the little town very fondly. It was a great time in my life. Free. Mostly. I didn't feel too lonely. Spent time with friends, worked, hung out with the short... I ended up dating someone damn cool, too. But alas, things changed, and here I live in a new city. It's not bad. It's no where near as charming as my old town and no where near as familiar and beautiful as my home town, but we can't have it all. At least this town has an awesome farmer's market (like Trader Joe's but locally owned). That's about the best thing I can say about this place. Oh, and my husband lives here. And so does his sister, who is awesome. Three good reasons.

But that's about where I'm at. I need to go cough for a while. And maybe get some sleep between coughs. It's good to have goals.