Is it common for Inn people to start slacking a bit in their current body's life when they know they're about to return to the Inn? Like, the Old Orchard Beach version of senioritis? You end up in a strange body, freak out about it, come up with as many excuses as you can to avoid their commitments, eventually have no choice but to throw yourself in, you slowly and painfully adapt, and then when the light at the end of the tunnel appears you start to give yourself permission to let go a little?
Well, I've been trying to not do that. This isn't really because I feel like I owe it to Ainsley to be perfect; I think I've done an okay enough job keeping her life together under the circumstances (whatever that's worth) and her friends can handle a few no-shows if they're about to get the real her back. She's doing the same thing right now herself. No, I'm not cutting myself any slack because I've read enough of the blog's archives to know just how many opportunities there are for things to go wrong at this part of the process. I've got this basically superstitious instinct which tells me that if I act like I'm about to leave this life, I'll get hit by some kind of karmic whiplash which keeps me from returning to Isaac Strauss. And I know it doesn't work like that-- the Inn is anything but fair-- but the idea of letting myself relax just makes me feel deficient right now.
I don't even need the archives or my instincts to know that right now. The situation going on with Penny is absolutely horrible, and I considered not even posting this and holding off on any updates until after my Inn block is over. And yeah, this kind of thing has happened plenty of times in the past, but talking about the possibility of getting my own body back from a difficult-to-trust youth-seeking man with a chip on his shoulder just feels wrong.
But Marvin kept his word. I didn't give myself the luxury of fully believing him, but he's been communicative about his trip to the Inn, and even sent me an unsolicited video of himself mid-transformation while reciting a lengthy disclaimer about he's returning my body to me and how I shouldn't waste it. There was a lot more to it, but I think we've all had enough of me transcribing that guy. He's made his point very thoroughly by now.
So, entirely justified paranoia aside, I'm all set to arrive at the Inn next week. Everything looks good with Heather's plans as well. Speaking of Heather, I actually haven't seen much of her lately. She's usually gone whenever I get back to the apartment and doesn't come back until well after I've gone to bed, if not the next afternoon. As far as I can tell from when she does talk to me, it's the same kind of youthful hedonism she's been doing this whole time, just more of it. I don't really like to pry besides the occasional snide comment, and I'm not gonna stop her. The more things change...
I get jealous of her, sometimes. I kind of hate admitting it, but it's true. But then I remind myself that I've been clubbing as Ainsley, and went to a concert, and other stuff I never would've come close to a year ago. And, well. Look at how those went! I think I'm just not capable of being that type of person, and I say that as someone with experience in semi-successfully forcing myself to be a different type of person, so I at least kind of know what I'm talking about here.
Heather and I have done one interesting thing together since the last time I posted; not long after the Marvin incident we made an impromptu trip to the Grand Canyon since we were both feeling particularly bad about ourselves. It seemed like simply the thing one does if you find yourself in Arizona, despite being several hours away from Phoenix by car. Honestly, it kind of sucked? Neither of us wanted to spend Ainsley and Sara's PTO on anything not Maine-related, so we left very early Saturday morning and returned after midnight the next day. The view really is as beautiful as people say it is, but it was brutally hot the entire time and we spent most of the weekend in at least one of sleep deprivation or heat exhaustion. Neither of us felt up to doing any hiking, and between that and the horrible motel we slept at the trip felt more or less like a wash. I suppose that's the cost of doing something mostly so you can tell yourself you've done it. Of course, that's the same motivation that brought me to the Inn in the first place...
So I'm alive. Things have gone okay for me thus far after looking questionable for a while, especially when I last had anything to say. But the work isn't done. I hope it won't be much longer, and I'm not going to let myself upgrade past hope until it's no longer needed.
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