It’s not every day you wait impatiently for PRIVATE NUMBER to be displayed on your caller ID–for the better part of two or three weeks, I have been doing just that; most often sitting in the Starbucks at school, phone beside me, hoping for the above to materialize on the display.  It got to the point where I was expecting that I was going to get this call at a really inconvenient time, or worse, miss it and require phone tag playing.

But today, sitting in the Starbucks, the elusive PRIVATE NUMBER appeared on my Caller ID.

“Hi, is this Kerri?”

It’s funny how relatively little time it takes for somebody’s voice to become familiar on the phone–I knew as soon as the caller ID popped up, though, that it was the practicum student doing my psychoeducational assessment. My mom went in a month ago; I haven’t been in for six weeks.

“We have your report ready from your assessment–when are you free to come in?” [My free hours are as tightly-scheduled, often between things, but still flexible, as much something can be simultaneously. I have open time in pretty much any available slot at some point during the week.]

“When are YOU free for me to come in?”

Tomorrow at 10:30, this process will begin to end, and another will begin. In whatever direction, whatever form it may take.

My appointment is scheduled for an hour–the same amount of time they scheduled me in for to determine my entire life story so far–for setting the course for the next part of the story.  In the mix of anticipation, though, I have been a bit more settled about the whole thing emotionally over the last several weeks–and with a lot of help from a lot of good people around me listening to my ramblings, reading my e-mails, and supporting me through their responses. Knowing whatever the outcome, that I’ll understand more about where I’m at–and that understanding more will help me figure out where I’m going next–and how best to get there.

I cannot imagine they are bringing me in for an hour to tell me that they found absolutely nothing in my evaluation.

I want things to make sense. I want to understand myself better. I want to, perhaps, end a bit of this frustration that I’ve been feeling within myself in a bunch of different places.

I wait.

I wait for freedom from my own thoughts that simply cycle back to this continuously.

I wait with anticipation; I wait with this same craving for answers intensifying within me minute by minute.

I wait impatiently, another 15 hours to go, for what has been in the making for a long time.

Let’s do this. Let’s continue the story.

shooting for the stars / desperately reaching for something in the dark / pictures of memories, buried in my heart / lie awake and dream of the endless possibilities / catch my breath and go for it. / take apart everything that’s holding me down / make a point to pick a new direction / to make a new connection.

is this what it feels like finding out / that i’ve got the guts to say anything? / feels like, breaking out / when I can give up my reputation / finally, i can see, honestly / i’ve got the guts to say anything.

bold enough to fall / flat on my face / when i walk as they crawl / slowing down is just a waste of time to let go / tapping my fingers to the rhythm of a metronome / counting opportunities. / take apart / a gravity that’s holding me down / make a point / to find a resolution / to be my own solution.

if i’m gonna go down then just let me go / let me go down / let me go / let me go.

guts, all time low