Should I change my location?

So winter is now fully upon us, complete with record snowfall at O'Hare (as NPR instructs me). Mostly this is annoying in that the stairs to the laundry room are icy and parking is dicey (ooh a rhyme!) and makes me happy to own a 4-wheel drive vehicle. And I suppose in that I don't own any good snow shoes, despite having been here for 10 years now (a scary thought). Maybe I should title this post (okay, re-title) "parentheticals" or something instead.

So it's a new semester, a new year, and according to a lot of people, a new decade. And I have a new location. I am now mostly Chicago, nearly not Urbana. Yes indeed. In the fourth year of grad school (and marriage) and the fifth year of higher education during which time all I ever had regularly was the summer, I have finally switched things around and made Urbana my temporary home in practice in addition to name. And in a desperate attempt to relive my recent youth, I am in fact once again a registered student at Chicago, playing on an IM broomball team and wondering why the Classics building is so far in the corner of the main quad as I scurry almost late to class in the lovely dark-wood paneled room with too much heat. It is still a strange half-life of belonging nowhere but being everywhere. But it's a better version of it, finally.