Bravo.
Grace is waiting patiently for me to finish with this song. I'm guessing sometime this evening it will earn its name.
One of the three major things I need to get done before 9:17 pm tomorrow night has now been completed. Phase two of three will be completed once I'm done messing around here. And the third and final phase will start later, to be completed tomorrow after work.
Phase two being the actual cleaning up of the house. Phase three being the actual cleaning up of me.
. . .
I'm so far past excited, there isn't a word for it. Yesterday I worked myself into a panic over the trailer I'll be towing to California. I found out it is only 4 feet high, and my bed is too big. But I just have the mattress, so it will be fine. Everything will be fine.
That has become my mantra. I find myself saying that singular phrase over and over again all day and right before I fall asleep.
I'm worrying. I'm afraid of something going wrong. It's just all gone so smoothly so far. Things like this just don't happen to me, and I'm far too happy under the stress that I'm feeling. I'm far too elated for my own good, and I know something is up.
I feel almost like I'm being tricked, or like this is an extended dream sequence. I'm waiting for dancing midgets and flame throwers to jump out of the linen closet.
At the same time, I know it's going to get better. I know that things will keep moving until I walk into my grandmother's house. It's going to be fluid, and it's going to feel right. I have the impression that this is how life goes when you stop fighting it, that you figure out all the little mysteries hiding under your bed, and all of the problems that haunt you just get resolved.
It's just all over. This life here, it's finally done.
Everything will be fine.
You are all really too kind.