It’s like I’m a celebrity. Except without any of the perks.

Right now I’m fighting off either strep throat or mono, so here are my recent thoughts on this move, which may or may not be affected by my illness:

I’M LIKE A CELEBRITY.

I unabashedly love celebrity gossip. Love it. I skim all the websites and blogs daily. When I can, I listen to TMZ live on the radio, although I find Harvey Levin really obnoxious. He’s so self-important.

Here’s how I’m like a celebrity — take Beyonce, for instance. I see a lot of pictures of her on various vacations with Jay-Z, in exotic locations, on a yacht or a beach, rocking a bikini. When Beyonce goes on tour, or goes into the studio, or makes a movie, she has to leave her home, her friends, her family, and go to work for a few months. Probably somewhere new, where she doesn’t know anyone — although everyone she meets is nice and helpful (this has been my experience here). She probably has her husband with her, and she probably uses her iPad or whatever to keep in touch with everyone, but she’s alone in a new place.

That’s me.

To keep myself sane, I’m trying to imagine that this is a temporary interruption of my real life, and that as soon as this situation is over, I’ll be back home. It might not be true, it might not be healthy, but it keeps me from curling up into a ball and crying 24/7 because it seems like the best part of my adult life is over and I’ll never get it back again and I didn’t appreciate it enough and UGH HERE I GO CRYING AGAIN.

I totally bet Beyonce feels this way.

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