What is normal?

I live on a street that isn't a "busy" street. But it is used frequently by cars and trucks and people walking to and from a bus stop. It's not a city street either. But it's a little noisy, just not constant noise. It's in a small town and what's interesting about it is that if you go to the top of this street you're in a different town and if you go to the bottom of this street you come to two different towns and none of those are the town where I live.

Everyone who knows me knows I don't like where I live. I do my best but there are days when living here is just too foreign, too much of a challenge. There's nothing charming or unique about where I live. It's just a town. I complain about it a lot. Forgive me.

I think I'm having a serious S.A.D. attack right now. After snow last Friday, it's gotten worse. I dream of green leaves instead of naked trees that look like sticks in the distance. I dream of walking through a beachside park wearing shorts and a t-shirt and sandals, feeling the warm, salty wind against my face, making my hair curly instead of having to put on socks and boots and laters of clothes and having hair so straight it doesn't even appear to be the same hair I've had all my life.

Nothing inspires me anymore. I remember when I had inspirational thoughts, experiences, adventures, friendships. No more.

I've made choices. We all do. Sometimes those choices work out for us and sometimes they take time to adjust to. I've had enough time and still haven't adjusted but at least I'm with the man I love; the man who loves me. At least I see an end - a few years away, but still, an end. Please, God.