Four months and counting

I'm a dates person. I keep track of the most banal anniversaries of random things: 8 days since I cleaned my room, 25 days since I last started my period (you ladies know that this is THE MOST IMPORTANT! thing to keep track of!) 4 weeks since I changed the sheets (ew), 7 weeks since I had sex.

I'm also that girl who wants to celebrate EVERY milestone of a relationship: 1 month, 2 months, 3 months, 4 months, 5 months.......... 3 years, 3 years 4 months 7 days STOP... 1 month post-breakup, 2 months, 3 months....... 1 year drink champagne, 2 years drink champagne, 2 years 1 month 1 day move to New York and celebrate a brand-new life.

I'm not sure why I keep track so meticulously, or as if my life depended on it. I also have no clue why I have the compulsion to keep journals and diaries and blogs in multiple quantities (especially that damn sex diary!) but I know I need to preserve my entire life. I keep unsent letters and movie ticket stubs and every note I ever passed in high school. The only memories I have ever gotten rid of are notes/gifts from ex-boyfriends. I've destroyed almost all of them - letters, roses... once I even hacked a teddy bear to pieces - but I have the little feet (they look like tiny Ugg boots) in my old closet at my mom's house. Also in that closet is the most precious thing that The Ex gave me; I blogged about it previously. So even still, I never do manage to throw away or forget anything.

This month, things have been completely crazy, and I completely missed the 4-month anniversary of my move here. There are days where it hardly feels like something to celebrate, because so often I feel like at any moment, my money - and luck - will run out and I'll have to slink back to North Carolina, a failure at job-hunting and life. More often than not, these thoughts come at night when I'm trying to sleep. Not particularly useful for inducing slumber, but there they are.

The days, of course, that I am so overjoyed by life in the City that I can barely breathe come much more frequently, thank goodness; although no glimpse of the skyline or hole-in-the-wall gem is untainted by worry. The last 4 months have been 4 of the scariest, hardest, most exhilarating and educational of my life.