Tomorrow I’ll wake up. It will be Tuesday. I’ll get ready and drive to my new job. I’ll drive the 10 minutes I timed this morning. I’ll be nervous. I’ll be excited.
Three days from now, I’ll remember to turn the key to the left when I lock my door. Not to the right.
A week from now, I’ll have friends here. Well, I’ll have met people.
Two weeks from now, I’ll be confident. The voice in my head saying, “You’re going to screw up and no one in the field will hire you” will have died down. At least a little.
Three weeks from now, on my visit home, I’ll tell my family and friends of my exploits. I’ll exaggerate a little when I tell them I wasn’t scared to go on my first assignment.
A month from now, I’ll sit at this table, look out the window and watch a train go by. I’ll wonder why I was ever nervous to come here.
Two months from now, I’ll have a life here. I’ll go to the grocery store. I’ll have a favorite restaurant. I’ll be a regular at a coffee place a couple blocks from work. I’ll have friends.
Two and a half months from now, I’ll leave one home for another home. Part of me will be surprised at how sad I am to leave. Part of me will have known all along.
Tomorrow I’ll wake up. It will be Tuesday.
Hannah Black 