I am NOT good at saying goodbye.
I'm sentimental person, as you probably know. I think most writers are. We obsess and organize the past, and sift through it so we can recreate it or its echoes on paper. The very idea of things ending, or just changing, throws me for a loop.
I like plans and I like schedules. These girls I have here are my anchors, and the idea of not seeing them until Thanksgiving seriously gives me a stomachache. My girls laugh at my jokes when they're not funny. They're smart, witty, and driven girls who aren't afraid of being the strong women they are, but I can still curl up on couches with them and exchange sentiments about the fear of not knowing and growing up and having arrived at legal adulthood while feeling like you really don't know anything about anything at all. They're incredible.
That's goodbyes phase 1. Luckily I've got awhile until phase 2 hits. I'll certainly let you know how that goes.
In the meantime, I'm packing. My second post ever documented my failings when it comes to packing. I have not made any strides toward developing this skill. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've regressed. Somehow, my Dad's insane ability to pack was not passed on to me. I also missed out on him familial gift of guilting. That's due for another post entirely.
Speaking of earlier posts, my bloggiversary is coming up on August 11th! I'll be at the little house in the big woods at that point, so y'all better remind me. I would be devastated if I missed out on such a prime opportunity for premature nostalgia!
