Real change seems to hit you when you're least expecting it. So I guess the huge planned change that is soon to hit me in September won't be as mind-boggling as I'm anticipating. Or, at least, not in the way I'm expecting it to be. Moving on is weird, but never in a predictable way, so why not resign yourself to enjoying the journey?

I never cry when I move on. I smile, knowing that the pain will hit me later, catching me while I'm drinking coffee or driving to work or even peeing. What can I say, bathrooms make me emotional.

I really should be scared; I'm moving away to a big scary city with big buildings and big opportunities and big nightmares, and, like Wintersweet, I have no idea how I will make ends meet. But I'm not. Funny, when I know I should feel fear all I can find is excitement, and when all I want to feel excitement fear always seems to take its place. So it goes.