In precisely 24 hours the movers will be here and a long wonderful part of my life will quite possibly be over - namely the communal-living part.
Hopefully some bourbon will be employed between now and then to mark the occasion.
After, if not.
Here's to many good years of learning several things the hard way...
...and to the next thing, the 24-hours-from-now thing, the scary and maybe perfect thing, the longest step across the widest chasm reaching deepest down your eyes upturned and nervous, muttering a prayer - here's to that thing, whatever in the flocculent* name of hell we decide to call it.
* ...which doesn't mean anything bad, it's just a near-synonym for 'scabrous' that looked so extraordinary there in the thesaurus, and sounds so complicated - fucking flocculent! - that I had to use it.
