I guess I can write about this openly, now.
Everyone in an official capacity who needs to know has been informed.
I am moving. Not just apartments, but cities. To New York. That probably didn't come as a big shock to most of the people who read this blog, but now it is out in the open and I can talk about it here.
Moving is draining.
Particularly when you have to do the planning in advance thing and not just expect to make multiple trips to carry your stuff from one apartment to the next.
Ok. That wasn't the kind of well thought out and non-insipid observations you've come to (sporadically) expect from this blog. Sorry.
The draining part really is the bipolar-like fluctuation between excitement and terror. Jumping without knowing quite where you are going to land.
Ok. I take that back. You know where you are going to land, but not if there is a nice big fireman's mattress, a trapeze artist's net, jagged rocks, a sandy shoal, a deep pool or hard concrete waiting for you. Excited at the possibilities, but a little scared, too.
But isn't that what drives the adrenaline rush of sky diving?
Of BASE jumping?
Of - dare I say it - Opening Night?
Of pretty much anything exciting? The openness of all possibilities?
To quote a line from one of my favorite musicals:
"A blank page or canvas: his favorite. So many... possibilities..."
Posted by silsby at July 19, 2005 07:37 PM