Truthfully, I think I'm happy to move further away from my twenties, a time of utter confusion and insecurity. On the other hand, I'm fatter now. So I guess there's a trade-off? Ah well, I can always lose the weight, right? Let's hope I don't shed whatever wisdom I've gained with it.
I move in twelve days. I'm nowhere near packed, but then I don't have a lot of stuff to pack. There are so many things I'm looking forward to, but also many things I'm sad to leave behind.
Things I'm Looking Forward To:
1. An herb garden
2. Chicken on the bone
4. Zucchini, squash, and eggplant
5. The possibility of buying a car
Things I'm Sad To Leave Behind:
2. The cats
I mean, truthfully, I'm not exactly leaving D behind, as surely we'll keep in touch. (Right??) But I'll miss the trips from Chicago to Indiana and the long conversations. Maybe we can still have those from time to time. But life has a way of wrenching those away.
The other night D came into the TV room and said, "P to E."
"P to E. That's how long you've been living here." Ah, now I understood. D owns more than 10,000 CDs. It's probably closer to 12,000 these days. About ten years ago, he started a project where he's listening to every CD he owns, going in backwards order through the alphabet. (Hey, if you own that many CDs, you might as well make use of them.) So he and I have lived together from when he was in the P's. He's now somewhere around Melissa Etheridge, or something. Five and a half years.
I'm sad in some ways to close this quirky chapter of my life. That's inevitable, I think. But it's time.