It’s almost here. Moving day. It’s almost here and I’m ready.
It’s almost here and I’m not ready.
It’s almost here and this is the best decision I’ve ever made.
It’s almost here and this is the worst decision I’ve ever made.
I think about all the little annoyances I’m going to leave behind and I grin smugly to myself.
I think about all the little wonders I’m going to leave behind and I try not to cry.
I think about the people to whom I’m saying farewell and I do cry, but I pretend that it’s because of my contact lenses. They are very dry and dusty today.
Packing.
Packing is all there is. Packing is love. Packing is life.
These are my collapsible cardboard boxes. There are many collapsible cardboard boxes like them, but these collapsible cardboard boxes are mine. My collapsible cardboard boxes, without me, are useless. Without my collapsible cardboard boxes, I am useless. I must pack my collapsible cardboard boxes true.
Tomorrow is my last day at the library, but today feels like the true finale. Tomorrow is a Saturday, which means a skeleton crew on staff. Tomorrow is the epilogue. Today is when I’m saying goodbye to co-workers. No, not co-workers. Friends. I’m saying goodbye to friends.
I remember the first book I checked out when I started as a new library employee in December 2007. It was The Accidental Time Machine, by Joe Haldeman. My library card had lapsed years before, so this was the first book I checked out on my new card that I created on my first day. I’ve read nearly 600 books since then and checked out hundreds more than I never finished.
The last book I checked out is Fragile Things, by Neil Gaiman. I’d often wondered which book would be the last one I’d borrow. Now I know.
I should be packing.
Cynical Idealism 