Looking for a place to belong

After a weekend away from the apartment and at my parents' house I have come to the sad conclusion that I don't know where I belong. It seems to me that wherever I am is only a place to pass through, a place to occupy before I begin to exist some place else. This stretches even farther, to my place of employment, as the state has told me I might not know what I'm doing so, you know, don't get too comfortable. So as much as I love my job and most of my co-workers, I find myself pulling away: still devoted to what I do, but trying to not make too big of an impression, in case it's all over come June.

But what about the other part? This is no one's fault but my own, and yet I do not know how to feel more comfortable. Part of me wishes I could just go away for awhile, but I don't know where I'd go, or what I'd do once I got there. My g-d, when was the last time I wrote anything of note? When did I hear my characters? If I disappear from all this...whatever, will they find me again, sit down and have a chat so we can figure out what's going on?

I want to make my mark, feel like an independent person, but I need people too much. I see my stuff in the apartment, but it doesn't feel like any of the space is mine; it's more like storage. I go to my parents' place and, of course, nothing is mine there right now, although we talk about what I'll do with the bedroom if/when my brother leaves. But what if he doesn't? I can't move back into the house with he and his girlfriend there; too many people in one place. Where does that leave me? I wish I could strike out on my own, find a little condo for Cleo and I to hole up in until the worst of this is over, but I know that won't fix the problem. I'd be lonely. I'd be mopey. I'd eat bags of carrot sticks and drink lots of green tea, and then splurge on McDonald's French Fries to curb my salt craving, all to no avail.