Insomnia... and the bar-close drunk with the chalkboard laugh.

2:15am and I can't sleep.  Went to war against the filthy stove and several hours later it was practically spit-shined, but something in my head went off during the course of that cleaning: we are really about to get the hell out of Dodge, we really are moving to a new country, I'm ready to go to war for my financial aid and don't care what kind of news I may get tomorrow or next week.  I'm functionally broke until the aid arrives and do not feel entitled in the least, but gimme my money, dammit, so that I can budget my year and know whether or not my credit rating will sink or swim.

The summer drunk kids are back, too, and for several days now at 2am it's been a constant ship of fools.  It was so quiet for so long here just outside of downtown, with the bridge repairs of the LaSalle bridge over Interstate 94 cutting down on a good amount of traffic.  But now the college kids have returned; I'll be glad to be a college student again myself and hope that things will be quieter seven floors up than they are three floors up.  Just because the Toronto Public Library and a senior retirement community are across the street is no guarantee of anything, though.  But if they must be drunk, at least let them shut up if they're young and naive.  I've known plenty of smart drunks in my time and I'd give anything for the presence of just one random one now and then.

Yet, nothing is really an irritant.  The glow of the horizon has returned to my mind, the pictures of the huge new city beckoning.  Even the simple chaos of what kind of checking account to open at which bank, which also spun my brain into confusion and unrest, pales at the overall adventure that we're about to undertake.


Along with all the packing that's been done will be the re-packing, which is a putz, but it means that we've had more time to do things here at a more relaxed pace and we get to see a couple more people whom we wouldn't have been able to see otherwise.  I'm very conscious of the people I'll miss and it's not a treat to miss them, but knowing just how strong my network of friends is despite the Venn diagrams of our lives intersecting seemingly ever more rarely is a great treasure that I'll never take for granted.  New roots, old roots - all are important, everyone has their own take on you, and you on them, forever enjoying the richness of each diverse life... provided, of course, that perspective doesn't drown in stress and cause a circling of the mental wagons.  But I don't think that'll happen; I only need to adapt to how Jen and I will need to make more time for each other as our lives accelerate at different speeds and more separately than they have in the last few years, where we've been blessed to spend countless hours together, with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows already in the books, and yet we just keep soldiering on, mutually supportive, seeking to develop our lives together and the independent interests that we cultivate and share.


Three days from now, at this very hour, we may be checking into the Motel 6 in Battle Creek, Michigan, our last American sleeping outpost before driving a few more hours to the border, where I can only hope that I have all of my paperwork organized efficiently and to the border officers' liking.  The pendulum swings of the last week have been wrenching, but we're still here, still determined, and still leaving.


Not being held back by the uncertainty may yet be the greatest victory of all, as it's what separates a vivid life from one that may ultimately be left wanting from roads and chances not taken, circumstances bowed to instead of risen above.  I've worked very hard for this chance, but it is yet only beginning, and I hope not to forget the victories of each moment as they happen.