Sitting in a office where there are litter boxes

It isn't quite time for food for the cats here Chez My Parents.

They are, of course, dying of neglect and lack of laps and the seemingly endless work of other people unpacking boxes.

You would think the world had ended. It has. But that's really not the point.

My move happens next week. I like referring to it that way. Next week.
*shivers of joy*

Everything is basically up in the air about the move. I do not have a job, I do not know where I am going to live, and I do not know anyone.

13 years ago, I moved to Lincoln in the same situation. Except for the part where I had three times the money I do now and a car and lots and lots of hiding and healing to do.

I feel like the intervening years have been good to me, and I'm pretty stoked about the idea that even if they don't hire me to do minimum wage paying grunt work, the St. Louis Public Library system has got it going on. Holy Master's Degrees! They hire actual librarians to do library work. What?!? I was shocked. Shocked, I tell you.

Also, Laurie R. King is going to be speaking at one of the branches next month. Guess where I'm going to be? Yep - smack dab middle and center. Best view, you know.

I'm taking a book out of my cousin Heather's page and have decided to give STL & I five years to learn each other and see what kind of a life we can make.

People ask me (okay, like 2, but it's still plural) if I'm excited, and the thing is that I'm not, because it's just what is happening next: my life. If I spend a ton of energy getting excited about it, I'll just spin in circles with the excess and make a lot of noise and maybe miss the thing that gets me where I need to be.

Speaking of. It is time to feed the cats. I know this, because they have all flopped on floors, convinced that nothing good can come of bubble warp and cardboard boxes.

Blessings, beloveds.
Be well.