Eve of Destruction

I came home yesterday afternoon and had a major meltdown: How can I pack up everything for my move in only hours? Where do I begin? But worse, as I spun with decisions, my spirits bottomed: I don’t want to go. Don’t make me go. I don’t want to leave here. Please let me stay. I don’t know who I was talking to. No one was listening, which was just as well.

Somehow I found some moth-eaten bootstraps and managed to pack a selection of regular clothes and work clothes, computer and office supplies, pots and pans and dishes and silverware, bedding and towels, a few pictures and treasures, toiletries, lamps and chairs and tables and chests of drawers, sponges and soap and lightbulbs and toilet paper.

Today Jason did most of the heavy lifting as we packed my newly rented ten-foot truck. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow for Davis.

In anticipation of this move, I’m sunk under a profound loneliness, worse than that I felt during all my other moves this past 12 months: Mexico, Vermont, Delaware, North Dakota and home again.  I don’t know why I’m like this. All I can envision is me sitting isolated in this place that I have no attachment to and that isn’t a place I ever would have chosen as a destination.

This video captures my mood. Thank you, Eleni. [For some reason you may have to hit play, then pause, then play again to make it work.]

[flashvideo filename=wp-content/video/funeral.flv image=wp-content/video/funeral.jpg /]