Oh, I have needed some Cat Stevens. Something about him I find incredibly centering. Led Zeppelin is when I'm happy, sad, noisy, bored, soulful, etc, and Fiona Apple is when I feel like a girl, but Cat Stevens and Blackbird by The Beatles and Miles Davis are what I need when I find myself overwhelmed.
Tomorrow I sign the paperwork to sell my other house. By "other" I mean not the house I live in, but the house my parents bought in my name some seven years ago. I've never really been comfortable owning it since I have as little to do with it imaginable- I mean, I haven't seen the place in years. So tomorrow marks the completion of step 1.5, as I'm calling it, and the severance of my legal ties with my parents. The signatures on the paperwork tomorrow are the last of their cooperation I require for the completion of the escape plan. After this I'm on my own. And this is at once a wonderful and terrible thing. Well, actually, I don't know how it would be terrible, other than I feel scared. With every completed step closer to leaving I find myself vacillating between terror of the unknown, glee at progress toward the unknown and impatience that it's all taking so long. Despite my absurd feelings on the matter, I am not going to hole up with nothing but soothing music and chocolate nor am I going to drink myself stupid or smoke my throat raw. I'm going to do this. I'm scared of it, but I'm doing it anyway.
So yeah, if I make it to the waterside, I'll be sure to write you a note.
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