Honestly, the last thing I wanted to do today was blog. It's hot, I'm running on two hours of sleep and I've spent the last 13 hours cleaning, packing and moving. (Moving definitely sucks, but moving by yourself is SO much worse.) But I couldn't bear the thought that a whole month would pass without me writing anything, especially when I have tons of things I want to/should blog about: the Port of Oakland boat tour I went on last week, my run-in with a psychotic seagull earlier this week, the insanity (mostly in a good way) that has been my last week in the Bay Area, and most especially, my thoughts on leaving.
Because as soon as I finish writing this blog, I'll pack up my computer, stick it in the car with all the rest of my crap, and head out. Crazy. And sad. And still completely unfathomable. Even though I am sitting in an apartment with literally nothing in it, even though I have met the woman who is moving into my apartment tomorrow, even though I've been saying goodbye to old friends and sadly admitting the impossibility of maintaining relationships with people I just met, I still don't think my head really gets that I'm leaving Oakland--the place I've called home for 5 years--and probably won't be back as anything but a visitor for a long, long time.
I think it will probably hurt like hell when I finally realize that truth.
