I'm running on fumes, so this post will be short. Big moving truck came today, picked up my life as represented by property and packed it tight to be driven across country. I'm sad as I write this. I'll miss my mom and Jack and it's hitting me just how much. I'm at their house now, propped up in bed in a guest room. I still don't feel like I'm leaving. I'm still in denial, even when two men hauled possession after possession out of my apartment. The night before my move, the things that needed to go in boxes seemed to triple. I was operating purely by will, but at 5:30 AM I gave up and laid on my mattress to try to sleep. It came in fifteen minute bouts and soon it was morning.
The movers were nice. One was a big fan of The Wire. The driver was a big burly man from Virginia who drove a massive truck. The day before I said goodbye to the Starbucks crew, got hugs and a free mocha. On Saturday I had lunch with a friend from The Wire and it was great to see her and catch up with life and show gossip. Though I know where I'm going and want to go there, it's bitter sweet. Why can't we take the things and people we like about one place with us to another?
I drive to North Carolina tomorrow. Sleep is tugging at my eyelids.