Quoted in the paper this morning: “This is one of the weakest, most baseless indictments in American history.” Funny, the first thing that comes to my mind as that sounds more like Whitewater. Tom is calling his accuser a fanatic. Let’s see how that works for him.
OK, so I get my resolve up to go back to WW. Shower, dress, hit the road, and it’s not there anymore! Well, the building is there, but the meetings aren’t. They’re in a new place, about the same distance away, but in a different direction. And I can’t make any of their meetings until Tuesday. What to do, what to do. . .
I did find out something cool, though – once you have an account, you can sign up online for the e-tools, and it includes a new tracking program for your PDA. I think that’s wonderful, and I want to go for it, but I need to sign up first. I have to wait. That makes me want a snack. Heh.
So we’ve signed a contract to sell the house. We’re working on the creative financing that will allow us to move. We’ve met the middle school teachers. I’m really, really tired. There are too many things going on that I wish were over, and too many I wish weren’t starting. Now that the contract is signed, the reality is setting in, and the guilt. . .friends and neighbors and teachers (I volunteer a lot in the elementary school) saying how much they don’t want me to leave. This triggers some strange thoguhts and emotions (“Why are you guys upset? I’m not moving far, I’ll be back!” and “Seriously? Miss >me<? That’s weird.”) I mean, I do fully expect to be visiting and being visited, and even though it’s not the same, it still doesn’t feel, yet, like I’m really moving away. And while we’re moving for a lot of really good reasons, sometimes those reasons don’t mean as much when we’re trying to explain them to people who don’t want us to go.
It’s been a very, very long time since I last moved away from people who cared where I lived. A really, really long time. It feels strange.