Today begins the first of many "lasts" over the course of the next 8 days. Today is my last Thursday at work, this weekend is my last weekend living in my town... and I'm excited and sad and feeling guilty and nervous and worried and a whole potpourri jar of emotions that got poured into a blender and turned on high and everything is really confusing and overwhelming and also the Dodgers lost and I'm so pissed about it.
But anyway, let's talk about the worry. I know, I know. Worry is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere. Thanks for those words of encouragement; they're very helpful. Except I'm still going to worry.
First of all, since I don't have a new job lined up, what am I going to do all day? What I should do is work on the book I was writing that I realized is weird cross between The Lakehouse and Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Or I could read some books, like the books Lindsay and Amber suggest. I guess I could be active and jog around the lake or take the dogs on walks or clean or something, but I'm worried that I'll just be really lazy and watch Netflix all day while eating Ruffles... and I'm worried that I'll get bored.
I'm a little bit worried that I'm going to use my move against Keith. I can't decide if this is a serious worry or if I just laughed a little too much at this picture ...
...but I can totally see myself saying, "Well, I moved here so I get to pick where we eat dinner/what movie we watch/etc."
And then there's the snow. Apparently it snows in the mountains, and I don't have much experience with snow. I'm pretty sure my Target ballet flats aren't appropriate snow shoewear, and my Fuggs went to Fugg heaven and I don't have any boots (Fuggs are fake uggs, if you didn't know) to keep my piggies warm. Can I wear moccasins? Will moccasins work? Mine are gold and shiny. They're fine, right?
Don't even get me started on chains for my car. I don't know the first things about snow chains, except that they're a pain in the a$$.
I'm worried that his dogs are going to spend so much time with me that they'll start to love me more than they love him and he'll feel neglected so he'll have to buy new dogs but they'll also love me more than him and then he'll resent me and I won't even notice because I'll be too busy paying attention to the 17 dogs that now need my attention.
Sometimes I get a little worried that all my friends who say they're going to come visit me will decide they don't want to drive up the winding mountain road and they'll just want to Skype instead.
There's no Target up there.
That's it for now. I feel like recognizing these worries is the first step toward nipping them in the bud, right? Probably. In case you didn't notice, a lot of these are sarcastic because I use humor as a defense mechanism when I'm overwhelmed or stressed or feeling like things are getting too serious. It's super healthy.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go back to rocking in my rocking chair. Focker out.