There's a Great Horned Owl calling somewhere off in the darkness. The moon is one day past full. I'm hiding in the computer lab at work, drinking a cup of herbal tea. The cabin leaders are all in the lodge, eating donuts and hopefully staying out of trouble. Through the wall, I can hear the teachers talking.

I haven't yet found the inner calm I require to truly move forward. It's hard to focus on what will be when you're still mourning what was, or what could have been. I have to take into account that my state of mind is negatively affected by a serious lack of sleep. I've known this all along, of course. I always tell kids who come into the camp office at night that their problems are magnified by exhaustion, and that the best thing they can do to make things better is sleep. Sleep doesn't solve problems, but it makes them more bearable.

I wonder what the future will bring. How will I feel about all of this a year from now? Will I have successfully made the transition? I plan on living in my apartment for at least six months, or maybe until the end of the school year. Who knows, maybe I'll be there longer. It's not a bad little place, with the park nearby, a skylight in the kitchen, and an air conditioner. The wood-paneled ceiling is a plus too. Too bad the mail delivery seems to be so chaotic.

I'll be glad when my school term is over in December. I've been having trouble focusing on my assignments lately, and am stalled on the current one - not due to a lack of focus, but due to a lack of a subject for the literary case study I'm supposed to perform. I may be able to fix that tomorrow. After this term is over, I only have one more. For the last term, I'm hoping to find an internship so I can work at a school.

In a way, this is an exciting time. Part of me recognizes this, but I don't feel excited. I feel wounded. There will be a scar, but with each scar comes wisdom. I will heal.