That's Rockville, Maryland, a place I may well be leaving for the last time tomorrow. Or Sunday if things don't start going better.

I'm exhausted, stunned, wrung out. We threw things away and gave things away and packed things for a month and there's still so much to deal with. God, I hate moving. Of course I was the one that wanted to ditch everything and move to the west coast.

If we can get everything into the truck, we'll be rolling out Saturday afternoon. If we can't, who the hell knows?



Then we'll be trekking across the country, hoping our cat doesn't just lapse into catatonia (get it? that's what passes for humor from me these days), hoping our stuff won't get flamed or crushed or accidentally abandoned at a truck stop in Nogales, hoping the Canadians will let us in since we'll basically be showing up at the border and requesting a study permit, hoping someone will buy our house. This whole thing demands a great deal of hope.

Not to mention about a day and a half more than you have. No matter how much time you start with.