Only last for one night

I saw a friend I hadn't seen in two, maybe three years yesterday. It made me realize how little I think I've changed, but how much my life has. I've worked two jobs, and I'm starting to approach the one year mark of living in Salt Lake. That thought disturbs me most. I have yet to establish roots here, and continue to look at my situation as a temporary solution. I seem to float around here, I observe little, do little and feel as though I work a lot, though I doubt I work all that hard.

Like the route I drive to and from work every day, monotonous. There are new restaurants on the street I haven't been to, and one's I have. There's a light rail line down the middle I have yet to drive. I contemplate renting the places where signs are posted. I'm typically late for work. I return on the route, drive it again, day after day. I still don't eat at the restaurants, rent or ride anything new.

When I wasn't living in all that is familiar, I was fascinated by the people, the nature, the places, the vernacular, the things. And here, things are new, there are unique people, the world changes. I wonder if this is the end of living life and the beginning of letting it live, and then I think, maybe I'm just bored.