on the move again.

one step further away from my mother. i'm moving for the eighth time in five years. it's the job, but i can't pretend it isn't me too. destined to be a nomad, i suppose. the last person to put down roots in my family was my aunt in the 1970's. the rest of us still rent. i realized with a slight sort of glee that my mother no longer has my phone number for work. she can't call me and harass me at my job anymore. but i know at some point that someone else will tell her where i've transferred, and the explanations to coworkers will have to begin again. i dread it. but i also want it, if only to know she's alive.