Still sick, but mending slowly. The car is back, with no major issues—apparently my transmission fluid got contaminated somehow. The car was sitting for a year, so I can see how that might happen. But I got off fairly cheap, and the Escort rides again!

The move continues to become more real—friends try jokingly (but kinda not) to change my mind, the boxes mount, and the landlord brought her first potential renter by to see the place today. In less than a month, I will be living in Washington. Until then, I have a monster checklist.

I'm not sure what makes it so hard. I'm tempted to say, "Everything," but it's not that simple. I definitely think that waiting until I was 33 to move away from my hometown is not helping. Beyond that, I guess it's just a fear of the unknown and of change in general, which is even more reason to go through with it. One thing I've dedicated myself to the last year is not living my life based on fear; I've spent way too long playing that game and I've gotten way too good at it. So, back to packing up my life and all of its artifacts—having librarian tendencies does unfortunately require a lot of boxes.