My Head Might Explode

I have been doing a really good job of not thinking about all the things that are happening at one time. I sift carefully through the move outs and move ins, try not to worry about the packing, don't obsess about the leaving. And then WHAM - like a Mack truck - it all comes crashing in on me and exactly what I knew would happen does. I am paralyzed, despite the million things I know I need to mobilize and do there is nothing I am capable of except to sit and stare at my walls. I can't even cry, I'm so dumbstruck. I have stacks of lists, broken down and put aside, waiting for me to address their next item.

I have very suddenly become the exact picture of my own tag line. Evolving revolver exactly, because I'm definitely changing and I'm surely moving forward but it feels an awful lot like Russian Roulette when moments like these slide into the round. Evolving into what? A Parisian? A nanny? A writer (finally)? A certifiable nutjob?

And then I do cry and thank God because the pressure inside my body is building so much that I worry my thin frame might buckle under the stress. Thinking gives way to sobbing which gives way to feeling lighter and remembering that even though it's all happening really fast, its a seriously good thing.

Just put one foot in front of the other. Suddenly, one day, you look up to find you're there already.