I wanna go back to Egypt

It’s no secret that Boston hasn’t been a particularly good place for me to live, mostly because I can’t find a job. And even though I lived in a similar climate for three years while in Germany, last winter was tough. Between the heavier-than-normal snow plus us living in a basement apartment, I felt like I lived in a pretty solitary cave.

Mostly though I miss my friends, and I miss the tribal knowledge I have about Kansas City. Even though I’ve been gone for 18 months, if I were suddenly dropped back in KC, I’d still know where to go or who to call to get what I need. That includes things like doctors, dentists, good grocery stores, plumbers, electricians, and even volunteer opportunities. I don’t have that knowledge in Boston yet, that sort of thing takes time.

Oddly enough, I find myself longing to be back in Boston. Don’t get me wrong—I like Providence a lot. I just don’t know a soul here, and since we aren’t staying, I don’t really have the motivation to meet people. Plus I know more about Boston than I realized. And while I haven’t developed the extensive circle of friends I had in Kansas City, I do have friends—good ones, who have been so kind during this mess.

When I lived in Columbus, my friends from church had an expression they used whenever any of us would miss how we lived in the past: I wanna go back to EEEEEEEEEEgypt. You may recall that in the Old Testament, the Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years before God allowed them to enter the Promised Land. And even though they’d lived in slavery under horrific conditions, they would regularly complain to Moses that they wanted to go back to Egypt. Now I won’t say Boston is as bad as living in slavery under a crazy Pharaoh, not by a long shot. It's also not the Promised Land. I still want to go back.

I'll close with a picture of where the boys like to spend their days when they aren't crying at me. It's not a big window but they manage to squeeze in there anyway.