Home, and leaving

I had one of those "I'm such a screw-up" moments the other day at a gas station at Cedar Rapids, when the 14-year-old counter clerk held me hostage because my debit card wouldn't work. I didn't have any cash, either, and my other credit card is over the limit. I felt pretty panicky. Luckily a friend gave me a credit card number over the cell phone (just barely, before the charge gave out), and I escaped Quik-Stop prison.
Times like those make you feel like a big old loser - when you don't have anything material to show for the life lessons you've gained, and the emotional (if not neccessarily financial) maturity you've attained. I've been in Iowa for a year, and I'm about to be called into the police as a drive-off by a high school kid. That makes ya feel good.
But this morning I went to church, where all the old ladies (and some younger people too) have started to recognize me. One of them has made it her mission to remember my name, even though I'm so shy I never really speak to her. It kinda throws me off when she says it, because I have no idea who she is. In our modern world, we get so isolated, that we get used to isolation - a small town church is kind of a wake-up call to people like me who spend a lot of time on the internet talking to people from other places, and dreaming of past events and such. Small-town life is very here and now.
And then I went shopping with a new friend I've made, and I realized - hey, for one year in a new place, I haven't done so bad. I haven't gone psychotic, and I've even been dancing. And the financial troubles mostly stem from a lot of job switching, which I think for the most part has been neccessary and prudent - just problematic when it comes to having insurance and vacation and stuff. But what's insurance compared to friends and little old ladies at hip liberal churches that know your name? What's vacation time compared to an open mind?

Moving for apparently no reason to a new town: $200 in gas, occasional joblessness and poor credit
Living life on your own terms: priceless