Kafka on the Shore
By Haruki Murakami
What a mix of emotions. I'm just about finished gutting my room of everything I've collected over the past 5 years here in SF and even before, and while I recognize a familiar feeling of freedom from (how's that for alliteration) previous moves, I'm also not liking the idea of leaving this city, my cat, my friends here, and a feeling almost but not quite near "home", to go off into the blue yonder. So half the time I feel like I'm crazy for leaving, the other half that I'm crazy for staying in one place for as long as I have. And who wouldn't be excited about a 2 week trip travelling across the western US camping and looking at pretty things? But then...
Thus my daily emotional ride. Two days from now I leave, and that'll be it. I guess.