Zombie Will Think for Food

Do you hear that? It’s the sound of me peeling myself off of my parents’ new couch to send you all a postcard from my briefly unemployed and deeply awesome existence.

Moving Day was Monday, and it went as well as these things will go; which is to say, I only cried once, and was able to binge eat my supermarket brand sushi in the parking lot of the Harris Teeter in record time before sleepily driving the four hours home to South Carolina.

After the inevitable coma, I rose to realize that the lightness of my key chain (ceding my office keys and my apartment/mailbox keys has hilariously stripped me of my adulthood, you know?) is strangely symbolic: the only things I have the capacity to open right now is my car and my parents’ house.

Transitions are about getting from one place to another, and I could babble a bit about opportunities and opening doors, but why pontificate when I can tap Rilke for a far more eloquent moment:

You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

—Ranier Maria Rilke in Letter Four, Letters to a Young Poet

Cliché though it is for me to be quoting Letters to a Young Poet at this particular moment in my life, what can I say? We are so young, my dear friends: let us live on into these questions. I plan on taking a couple of my own to the beach in the morning; I’ll let you know if I figure out anything important.