better sorry than safe in 2013-2014

Today, I handed in my two weeks notice.

It was full of emotion, regret and apology and stiff upper lips on behalf of the menfolk (OH GOD OLDER MEN BEING EMOTIONAL HELP CANNOT DEAL) and I'm glad I did it late afternoon on a Friday, because ACK. I delivered my paperwork to get my retirement check and ID to the HR office to be processed next week since the pertinent ladies had left early and then fled for a milkshake. I talked to my dad on the way home. He's really excited for me. Everyone's excited--but me. I'm stuck in a glass case of nervous emotion.

Honestly, I don't feel anything negative. There's peace (I think) beneath the turmoil of quitting a job full of people who have bent over backwards to take care of me. There's curiosity and a distinct lack of regret.

My parents have both pragmatically acknowledged that of course I'm fretting--I hate change. The last time I moved, I was so nervous the day of that I delayed it a day because I couldn't stop throwing up. It was ridiculous. At least this time I'm not foraging into a total, stranger-filled unknown.

My parents are excited. Aaron's excited. Our friends are excited. This is real, this is happening, this happens in two weeks. It's on the calendar. I just need to sign a lease next week. Aaron finished scoping out the last of the places on the list today and we have our finalists to tour and talk pricing.

I sucked down my milkshake sitting on the couch, Skyping, and then curled up and took a nap with the camera still rolling. I feel a lot better post-milkshake-and-nap. Thunder is rumbling and crackling outside as a stationary storm perches on the county line.

This is real. This is going to happen. I'm moving to be WITH, with, for the first time not separated by hours, my fiance. I am moving. I quit my job. Two years of looking for a way out of this town just materialized.

...I am really bad with change.

I renamed my cat. For the rest of the month, her name is Fluffy Ball of Hate, because she will hate this change more than I will, haha. Moving is the absolute bane of her existence.

The music is on random. Halestorm keeps playing: Better Sorry Than Safe and It's Not You. It's like Lzzy knows.

Let's roll.

My mom's last message to me: "I'm heading to the beach. Might actually go swimming a little as well as do my walk. I'll check back with you later to see if you're still breathing. :)"

But my best friend, my maid of honor, posted about the Insane Inflatable 5K. It's in northern South Carolina in October, outside my favorite city in the US. It's so on! We're dedicating that weekend to bouncing and wedding dresses, since that will be the five-month mark.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH. I'M SO GLAD I BOUGHT A BOTTLE OF WINE ON THAT LAST TRIP TO THE GROCERY STORE.

Aaron keeps glancing at me and smiling like a moron. It's contagious.

This is gonna be awesome.