I moved to Oregon today.

I arrived with three suitcases. The rest of my stuff is either in storage or on its way via UPS.

(It is good to be here.)

There are no direct flights to Medford, so I had a short layover in San Francisco.  It took me a few minutes of wandering about the terminal to remember the last time I had been there.

(It had been two years, almost to the day.)

In the Spring of 2008, my life went to hell. Nothing was good. Nothing was right. My marriage had ended. My job was going nowhere. I lived in my sister's basement.

Earlier in the year, I attempted to drug my pain by entering a rebound relationship. The relationship was profoundly disturbed, even by rebound standards. It ended while I was in San Francisco on a business trip.

I spent the day at the airport in withdrawal. I was upset, but also strangely relieved. The cruelty of the breakup bothered me far more than the loss of the relationship. It also brought about a change in attitude. I became motivated less by fear and more by a mix of hope and anger.

(This proved to be a remarkably productive switch.)

The next two years brought huge changes: Lost a ton of weight, found a great place to live, started a new career.  Then came the offer of a home in Oregon.

Today's memories brought me no pain, only a somewhat embarrassing giggle-fit.  Feeling peckish, I stopped at the Chinese restaurant and ordered some duck. The cashier handed me my receipt and told me to wait for my number to be called.

(I looked at the receipt.)

(The number was 360.)

I eventually made it to Medford and then to my new home. The stars are so bright. I've never seen so many stars in my life. The frogs are singing, and tomorrow I set up my workstation and get back to work.

(I can't wait.)