It's just a little scary, is all.

My office is cleaned up and packed up, and I took the plants and a small load of stuff home today. The bulletin board has been converted from a staging area for my mental process to a clean expanse, ready for the next tenant. Tomorrow I'll be hauling out the last boxes of my professional books, personal materials, framed diplomas and photos, and all the rest of the things that made that space "my" office. It already looks very barren, even though I'm leaving the cheap bookcase and the adobe-colored curtain I found in a clearance bin 16 months ago. (Seriously - what am I going to do with it?) I've had some very solemn moments, and I suspect that if Rick was home I'd be crying on his shoulder. Maybe tomorrow.