Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same

Give me any reason to believe
'Cause I swear I'm done here
'Cause I see a bigger picture
And I'm looking for some answers


Tell me that it's worth it
'Cause I'm doing all I can to fight it
But I've never been this scared
My moment's finally here
Mayday Parade- Still Breathing


My reality is finally sinking in. My nerves are wired directly to my intestines, causing me a painful bellyache daily. I'm starting to sell off the pieces of me that I've worked so hard for to make the journey a light one....and possible one. Everything that makes my "home" will now make someone elses home. While my possessions don't make me who I am, it is still weird to part with it all. It's sort of like giving up a part of myself, which now that I think about it, that is essentially what I'm doing. I'm giving up everything I'm comfortable with, everything I know, for something completely foreign. (Somewhere Down In Texas just came on)

I've made this decision before but the leap was, well, just that. A leap. A 120 mile leap from a small town to a small city. Now I'm making the 1,300 mile jump from small city to big city. Alone. Before, I had a familiar face to help with the transition. At least I have my cuddle buddy coming with. Hopefully he likes it. I feel like I have to be calm and confident for him through all of this. Seriously, this sounds ridiculous even as I type it but I watched the finale of Grey's Anatomy this weekend and OH. MY. GOD. I was SO stressed. I bawled ok? Like the kind of cry where you can't make any noise but it looks like your shoulders are having a seizure and your eyes are pouring buckets down your face. You should have seen this poor dog. And this is just from a TV show that I don't even follow regularly. Imagine when I move 1,300 miles away. Poor Sailor.

I've spent this weekend just sifting through all this shit I've accumulated in my 27 years. While organizing/purging/packing, I've come up with some questions for myself.

Why have I kept half the shit I've kept? Take the 2000 edition dictionary I've lugged around for the last decade for instance. How appropriate is it to actually own a dictionary when we live in a world with Google? Also, why did my mom feel it was even an appropriate Christmas gift? She must've drank a lot of egg nog that year. Don't fret. The dictionary is now in the "get rid of this shit already" box.

Was it really necessary to bring home that rock from the Oregon coast? Or those cheap ass beads they were passing out like hot cakes for St. Patrick's Day in Chicago? Yeah, I get the significance of a souvenir or two but what am I supposed to do with these now? They're just going to sit in a box that my children will have to sift through once I'm dead and probably curse me for being such a hoarder. Sorry future kids! Momma's a nut job....much like grandma! Oh my god. I'm becoming my mother.

Speaking of becoming my mother, why do I find it necessary to stock up on grooming products, cleaner, lotions, etc? I found two full bottles of hand soap from Bath and Body Works, two tubes of brand new tooth paste, various hair products I've never even used, and countless little trial size lotions. I could open a mini-convenience store in my bathroom. My mom does the same thing and it used to annoy me so bad.

Final question: What exactly does one do with a wedding ring? I know what you're thinking. "Wow. What a classy guy. He let her keep the ring." Yeah, so classy I got to keep the ring that I paid for. It's a pretty ring and totally my style but do you think it even thinks about fitting on any other finger? The last thing I want to do is walk around wearing a diamond advertising that I'm married. What the hell do I do with this thing? Sell it? Would I get what I paid for it? Anyone know of anybody needing a size 4.5 wedding ring? Send 'em my way. It'd pay off my credit cards.

I wish it was September. It's snowing right now in the SLC. Ugh.