I move this weekend.
Two more days to go. It's really happening. Tomorrow night, Aiden and Shelby are coming up after work. We're going to do dinner, pack his car full of my things, and then spend one last night in my apartment.
Saturday morning, Aiden will drive south to pick up his kid and take the first carload of my things home, Eben will come over to my place, and Shelby, Eben, my roommate, and I, and possibly Bruce, will pack up the rest of my life and empty out the place I've been for the last two years.
It almost doesn't feel like it's been that long. But it has. Twenty-five months, to be exact. I moved in on February 1st, 2013, and I'll be out on February 28th, 2015. I'm not sorry to see the back of the stupid freezing-pipes problem, but otherwise, I'll miss it here.
This is not a cold-feet thing. I want to be in my new home slightly more than I want to stay in this one, but that doesn't mean I'm excited to leave here. This town is wonderful. Lots of my friends are here. My apartment is great (aside from the pipes).
But it's time. Sometimes, it is just time.
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