Inexpensive Therapy

I need to be honest.  Today wasn't the greatest of days.  Bruce looked at me when we woke up this morning and said, "Two weeks" (he's leaving a few days before me) and suddenly this move became real.

Then I tried to walk from my bedroom into the kitchen and tripped over five half-packed boxes and I started to feel nauseous.

I hate moving.  I hate packing.  I like order.  I like to feel settled.  As my Sarah told me this afternoon, "It's also emotional to see all your stuff in boxes."

Lilly is starting to wig out too.  Yes, I'm talking about the emotional well being of my cat.  But it's true!  She can tell something is up and keeps giving me this pathetic, "WHAT IS GOING ON" look.  I wish she spoke so I could explain to her that things would be okay.

Actually, could someone explain to me that things will be okay?

I had a walk scheduled with Marissa this afternoon and I knew it would be the best thing for me.  I know that I need to taper, but a good long run would help me SO much right now.  Luckily, Marissa and I walk as fast as we talk, so we got a great workout in.  5.48 miles in 1:23:36, averaging a 15:15 pace!

Holy hills, batman!

Seriously, walking with friends is the cheapest therapy ever.

Of course, on the way I realized that very soon I was going to be 1,000 miles away from Marissa and I called my mom crying.  I could hear my poor father in the background saying, "Well, we're going to be happy to see you ..."

I can't wait to see everyone.  I don't want to leave.  I'm a mess.

Bruce had been out fishing, but got home shortly after I did.  He knew I was upset, so he let me have my moment to cry and then encouraged me to put in a movie while we packed.  I don't know what gave me this idea, but I pulled out Rent (the version that was filmed live on broadway, not the movie version - both equally amazing) and was suddenly transported back to 7th grade when my sister and I were obsessed with the show, listened to it all the time and saw it for the first time on broadway.

And 12 years later (good God, 12 years?), I understand a lot more of what is going on.

And after a summer of CPE where I visited with several patients living with and actively dying of AIDS, this show has entirely new meaning for me.  The line, "Will I lose my dignity, will someone care, will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?" just sent chills up and down my spine.

By the end of the movie, I was bawling.  I apologize to anyone who follows me on twitter and was subjected to this:

The good news is that between all of the singing, dancing and tweeting I still managed to get some packing done!  The bad news is that a half-finished project had to be packed up ...

Okay, puzzle.  You won the battle, but not the war.  See you in Connecticut.

12 hours later, I am much calmer now than I am when I woke up (yes, we slept in like whoa today).  Long walks/talks with girlfriends and good musicals are the best therapy ever.

Goodnight, friends!