It's t-7 days until me and my children move to our new home.
As I sit her tonight, exhausted because I worked night shift last night and didn't sleep much today, I had this wave of emotions.
I'm so excited to have my own place. I never have, in my entire adult life. I'm allowed to paint, and I'm gonna do some work to it, to work off rent. My place, my own stamp. my own memories, my own smells, pictures, thoughts, everything! Mine.
Then I realized I was feeling stressed. Of course moving is stressful, and being a single shift worker is making the process interesting; I also realized I scared.
I look around and I see the life that is being left behind. I am no longer part of a partnership, I am a single person doing my thing, with really no one, other then my children, to answer to. As I've packed boxes and purged items out of the house, I was reminded how much of a lop sided marriage I had. I made this home, and I will make a new one.
I'm scared because it's all on me. This is one adventure I have never been on, really, a slightly fucked up number of "firsts" going on for 33 years old.
Although the end of my marriage,and impending divorce are very final...this feels very very FINAL. The door will shut on this life next Wednesday, the book will be done, and a whole new book to start.
I kinda feel like I've had writers block for 6 years, and now I have all this stuff in my brain I want to do,and how I want to live..and it is safe for it all to come out now.
My book.
Anyone else felt like this? 
