Pre-work errands and post-work packings. Up at 6 and to bed at 3. Work in between. All the love I feel for this place and these people, frantic, spilling from me. Trying to give things away. Cleaning and cleansing. Not enough boxes even though there always used to be too many boxes. Radical and erratic acts of honesty that come from and bring peace in the midst of this freneticism. Music hitting harder, even, than usual. 

Time is crunched into tiny boxes. I feel like I am on a highway at night in the rain, driving fast, the car its own world.

Last week this did not feel real yet. Now it feels all too tangible, and as all good and strange things, much too sudden. I would like one more month, here, to savor long dinners and walks with all my loved ones as the leaves begin to change and the mornings and evenings get even cooler. I would like one week in Seattle to acclimate and explore before I dive into my work world. But I am happy enough with what I'm getting.