Today was my last day at my firm.  I started out the day exuberant.  But by the end of the day, when departure was imminent, I found myself almost reluctant to say goodbyes.  How many keep-in-touches actually come into fruition?  It's hard.  The force of nature.  The course of life.  People go their separate ways, despite the best intentions. 

Tomorrow I am moving from Boston, thereafter only to return for weekend frisbee practices, a transient in the place I have come to view as home. 

As excited as I am to put down new roots and to go back to school, I am also struck by bizarrely premature nostalgia -- that familiar instinct to cling to what must be left behind, pasts we must forsake, people from whom we necessarily grow distant.  Perhaps even the anticipation of distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

For some inexplicable reason, I am stressed.  Physically, I feel my body aching and breaking at the joints and ... well, actually, everywhere.  I've been running and lifting and working out pretty much more than I ever have in my life, and it's starting to take a toll.  I don't think my body was built for anything other than sitting. 

Mentally, I'm mysteriously near overload level.  Because of The Juggle.  I've started to read the WSJ blog of the same name, and I'm convinced that I am and will be utterly incapable of handling The Juggle.  I will be one of those crazy mothers who has no time to do anything, gets cranky, and explodes into a million pieces.

Right now I'm only juggling work, frisbee, and various social commitments (this includes the need to occasionally BE ALONE) and am already struggling.  With summer comes frisbee season, of course, which means workouts, practices, tryouts, tournaments -- all that good jazz ... that competes with everything (and everyone) else in my life.  Faced with the unforgiving spectre of the Long Distance Relationship rapidly approaching, I panic.

Well I've come up with a solution.  The answer is no.  No, I can't make it to your BBQ.  No, I can't have dinner with you and your friend.  No, I can't find time in my schedule to hang out, or go to the brewery, or do anything.  No, no, no.  I can't even explain it.  It shouldn't be so hard.  I feel guilty letting things - and people - fall by the wayside, but god, NO.  Please, NO.  NO.  NO.  NO.  The more things build up, the more I want to avoid it all, to stay holed up at home and say no ad nauseam.

I literally broke down tonight when I missed my bus.  (Stupid unreliable MBTA!)  On some rational level, I know I shouldn't be so histrionic about such ridiculous things, but I was exhausted, my shins hurt, my heels were aching, and I couldn't get myself to walk those 10 minutes home.  It was 9:30pm, nearing my bedtime.  I spent five minutes weeping before I finally picked myself back up.

As I said.  Inexplicable.

In a way, I'm relieved to be moving.  New town.  New place.  Fewer friends and obligations.  Less to juggle.

Again, impatience.  I have officially decided on a law school.  I am officially moving to New Haven.  I am officially quitting my lowly paralegal job on July 3rd.  I am officially going to Japan and Taiwan for several weeks in July. 

And I am officially sick of this In Between period, where I have to:

(1) worry about finding someone to take over my lease, making sure I get my (and my ex-roommates') security deposit back, dealing with moving out issues in general.  (Oh god, moving out.  Oh god, all the crap I have accumulated in my two years here!  Why?  Why!?)

(2) pretend to be happy to do grunt work at work

(3) find a new place to live, argh, and figure out how to pay for it, and figure out whether it is advisable to buy a car for what will be a frequent Boston-New Haven commute, and how I'm going to pay for that...

(4) find FRISBEE (oh god, I have to find frisbee) in New Haven

... and generally tie up loose ends here in Boston where the ends are many and loose all around.  I want to be done with this.  I am (honestly) very excited about the next phase of my life, but between now and then there seems to be an overwhelming amount of stuff to do.