It’s been ages since I wrote much of anything at all. I’ve been too busy either choking the cello into musical submission or squashing my thoughts into a text field holding only 140 characters. While I really do enjoy the exercise in brevity, there’s nothing like sitting down and flinging words around with no careful restraint or meticulous editing.

Let me begin again by attempting to describe the current state of affairs. In 42 days I leave this state. In 28 days (give or take), I leave Panera. The lease is signed. The decisions that need to be made have been made. It’s done. The only aspect of this yet to be [see:can't be] dealt with is the million different thoughts and emotions pulling me in the million different directions. As I am sitting here typing this, in my shitty apartment behind the cheese factory, with my few possessions scattered about and my cat prowling through the shadows, I am finally feeling fear.
Before, leaving this place was merely a pipe dream, an illusion held up by the passionately desperate. This time, reality all around me in the form of notice at work, boxes around the house, and deposits paid on a house. Throughout this whole process I have prided myself in keeping the sunny outlook, the positive attitude, the girlish happiness and naivete. Now with all of these tangibles around me, I can’t deny anymore that yes, I am scared to leave this place. I am scared to leave my family and friends, scared of the unknown. But these fears still fall away when compared to the excitement and curiosity and overall air of hopefulness.

“I’m going to take this opportunity and make it my bitch.”