In 42ish hours, I will take a swig of water, get into my car. I will place my sandals between myself and the door and then I will reach into a pile and pull out a compact disc. I will then insert said disc into my car's cd player, at which point the music will play through the car's system. Shortly after this happens, I will put the car in gear, and I will drive my happy ass to South Carolina. To live. There. In South Carolina.
Even as I type this out, to extreme detail, it is still not really setting in. I suppose it probably will not either until I'm half way through Montana and reach for the frosted animal crackers.
Idk what it is but I have not been able to fully grieve this move. Thankfully in part to the ass hats I keep acquainting myself with as I drive down the streets of Renton (drivers I say!) or perhaps it's because I have been totally Lorelei'ing this (too soon. It's too soon to cry.), no matter the reason, it has not sunk in.
Do not get me wrong- what I lack in normal responses I make up for in abnormal. Example- I said goodbye to my beloved bible study the other night. The women I have grown up with for the past year. We have been through so much together. Beautiful marriages, ugly divorces, child rearing, custody battles, job promotions, rounds of layoffs: sickness and in health. I love these women and through our experiences, have grown more fond of them than I can express in words. However, when it came to say goodbye, I was dry as a drought. Let's not get it twisted- I have my waterworks moments as well. I'm not proud to say that the other day, I cried at Scrubs. Carla wanted Turk to have the mole on his upper lip removed because it was gross to her. "Not fair!" I declared through my sobs, "She's got a man to come home to and she has a stable, respectable career and she looks awesome in scrubs. She has friends who are boys, a sassy boss, has quirky coworkers (long live Janitor!), looks good regardless of what her hair is doing, AND she's bilingual. How ungrateful! Carla's a bitch!" (It is important at this time to note that at any other moment of my existence, Carla is my favorite character.
I did cry for 15 minutes in my friends' driveway when I was retrieving my stuff from its storage place in their house. But I blamed that on back pain.
Currently, I'm choosing to believe that I have too much yet to do before I can allow myself to feel sad. Every time I think I'm ready, I find another box to mail or bag to pack. And every time I find a box to mail or bag to pack I throw up. Kidding. But how great would that be- seriously give me half a day and I'll shed 15, easy.
sometime soon I need to figure out a new background because this one reminds me of my panties when my Aunt Blood makes an unannounced visit to town. Whore.As silly as it sounds, I've come to the conclusion that I need to let myself be sad. I need to release the tears. But I've come to a newer conclusion just now that I need to fine tune this realization more carefully. Because Seattle is damp enough-
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