In two weeks, I'll be on the road. My house is a shambles right now - there are boxes all over the floors, bags of things to be donated ready for their Monday morning pickup, books in piles to be sorted, half-disassembled closets. There are two manuscripts and notes for a third project marking space on my desk.
I think my brain, or maybe my self, is partway on the road already. I have a week of goodbyes coming up here, and I'm making plans for a week of hellos when I am there. I turned in my last set of grades last night, and I'll turn in the key to my office next week. I feel inbetween and almost, and I alternate between wanting to play in the boxes like my cat and wanting to hide under the bed with my dog.
I will miss this place, but I don't regret leaving it, and when I talk about leaving, I say that I am going home. I am trying very hard to make this move and the changes that come with it a real new beginning - to think carefully about the choices that I am making and how well those fit with the life I want to have.