The Knot in My Stomach

As my time was winding down on the job, my frustrations had boiled over onto Buffalo as well: for not having more people to justify more frequent bus stops out near where I worked or for not having more jobs so I could more easily quite one I hate and easily replace it.

When I came back to Buffalo this summer, I came back with no illusions about it being something it wasn’t (and isn’t) and with expectations no loftier than discovering some of the things it might still nevertheless have going for it that I may have previously missed. If that job had done anything more it removed me from the physical city too frequently, for too long each day. Now that I have the free time to be in the city itself everyday, I am making sure, at the very least, that if I am to leave Buffalo again, I am going to leave it on good terms.

Because, that said, I’ve definitely been seriously considering a move back to Portland a lot lately. Enough so that I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen in my life next and find myself in a limbo state--both welcomed and unwelcome--at the moment. Everyday I’ve had a knot in the pit of my stomach constantly pouring over the possibilities, half excited, half nervous about making a good decision and making it for the right reasons. I know that it’s a knot that is a result of being willing to quit a job, live off as little money as possible and be willing to move about on an instinctual whim when the feeling dictates. I know too that I will eventually, when looking back, appreciate this situation as being a result of that freedom, but that will be easier than actually going through the experience as it interferes with my day from time to time.


I recently had a passing thought that I may have seen a bit too much of myself in Buffalo: a proud past that potentially had a promising future that ultimately went an unforeseen and unexpected route. That Buffalo isn’t as big a city that I might want to be living in, but, like I said, I had no illusions about that before I came back. If I am going to leave, it will be reasons unrelated to such arbitrary standards but rather for the fact that I may just have to admit that Buffalo might not be the place for me to be at this time.

And between Buffalo and I, the one I can change the easiest is myself.