As I muddle through the transitional time of grad school, it's strange to be in a place of such relative stability. There are roots here: dog beds on all floors, pictures of a wedding, a baby's bouncy chair. I can feel the sense of home that would show up every time someone came back to this house after a long shitty day of work. As for me, I'll probably move to another rental in a few months, almost certainly won't be in Atlanta following grad school, and in general still feel undecided about which path to take in life. I feel somewhat like an imposter in a real home.
However, there's also a longing for something akin to this in my future. I can see coming home as a professor to a family, dogs, and wood floors. Coming home to a place where I've settled and want to be for years to come. That's not where I'm at right now, and there are so many steps along that journey, if that is even where the journey will take me. But that doesn't mean I won't think of the possibility as I look at a sleeping dog at home in the sunshine. To find the peace of a dog in the sunshine is something worth waiting for.