So, I'm halfway moved. All of my belongings except for plants, aerosols, jewlery, files, and wedding duds are currently in the back of a truck somewhere in Illinois, driven by two shady characters. I never trust anyone with a curly mullet unless I absolutely have to, and I feel as if this fear is well-founded. The last time I moved they had me all packed and were gone by 2, you could tell they do this all the time. These different guys weren't finished until after 6 and were huffing and puffing and wheezing. If you carry boxes for a living, I would've thought you'd be in better shape. Perhaps it's the mullet slowing him down with all the aerodynamic drag.

I feel rather cynical tonight. I finished up my last day of work with a fantastic performance review, I really think they're quite upset to see me go. Driving out here I was a mix of exhausted and manic so I kept myself busy with some gummi bears, but I crashed shortly after arriving. And even though I was not happy in Bay City, what with the concealed weapons and motorcycles and hunters, I really miss some of the people already. I keep thinking about how nice some of them were, and it's just now hitting me that I'm not going to see some of them again, and the ones I do see it'll be different. I hate the awkward "so, what's new with you" conversations with old friends. Either snap back into what we both were or just wave and keep walking.

I told Stevie it's good to end it like Seinfeld did (on a high note) and he brought up the excellent point that hatred sometimes stems from a feeling of being trapped. I do know I'm moving on to bigger and better things, and I think it's good I left before I went nuts. Still, it's just a last lingering fear of totally changing your life again and leaving much of what was familiar. The saddest part? My empty key ring. I find it depressing to have only my car key on there.