So this may be the most sraining month of my life so far. I feel like I have a million things to do and only a second to do them all. The worst part is that I have to do them well, or perfect, in order for them to be a success.

You see, I am moving from Dallas to Petersburg, TX. Not the most happenin' part of the world, but that is one of the perks. I've been searching for the opportunity to live in a tiny community like this for as long as I can remember. It is just that now that my husband got a job there at the high school, they want us to move there at the end of this month! We have to go down a find a home and pack up our apartment here in the city and move out by the first of June. We will still be on the lease here in Dallas until the first of July, but Dirk needs to be out there to do summer camps and work on the facilities with the other coaches.

Did I mention that I have Dead Week all this week and Finals all next week. Not to mention I have to turn in a letter of resignation to the one job I have truely loved a month and a half earlier than expected. That part may be the worst of all.

I really love my job at the library and it will be really hard to have a similar job out in a new town. But keep your fingers crossed for me if you can.

I am totally stoked about my future in Petersburg and school at Texas Tech but I'm freaking out stressed about moving. 

There is a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson called "Ulysses"  and the last section has always made me feel a bit stronger. He is giving this dramatic monologue to his fellow mariners and trying to pump them up to go out and seek the unknown even though they are old and weary. It goes like this:

           There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;

There gloom in dark, broad seas. My mariners,

Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me--

That ever with a frolic welcome took

The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed

Free hearts, free foreheads--you and I are old;

Old age hath yet his honor and his toil,

Death closes all; but something ere the end,

Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;

The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep

Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The sounding furrows: for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset and the baths

Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now the strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are--

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yeild.

So with that, I will fight as hard as I can to come out of this next month and be where I want to be and find happiness among it. It is going to take alot of hard work my body won't be giving without a fight along with some sleepless nights of studying and packing, but coffee will be my companion and strong will-- my partner, so that I not yeild.

Wish me luck!