Objectively I think I am doing better at handling my feelings than in the past. But right now I have about 938,201 feelings. I feel sad and happy and bitter and excited and nervous and proud and ashamed and embarrassed and tired and competent and strong and weak and foolish and brave and stupid and like I am a rat running out on a sinking ship.

“Why are you moving to Scotland?”

“Because I want to put my children in school and have them not suffer through live shooter drills.”

I’m not making friends on my way out the door. And a lot of the old friends who are reaching out to tidy up old ends… I’m leaving them frayed. If I haven’t seen you in person in 5 years despite you living less than an hour away from me? I truly don’t have time to see you one on one for a personal send off. Are you nuts?

I appreciate the kindness of people reaching out to say goodbye. I do. I also feel bitter that it took this for these people to acknowledge me. If you have spent time with me or if you live far away I am probably not talking about you.

I don’t know if I am proud of me yet; I know I feel bursting with pride in my children and my spouse.

Today was complicated. We went to a party at Noah’s bosses house. Me and the kids felt out of place and like we didn’t do all that well socially. I had to talk my kids into not frantically running around tidying up after the party. We are not here to be the help and these aren’t good friends who really need our support. Leave the damn water balloons on the grass. Someone else will handle that problem. But I teach them to pick up litter on the sidewalk?

It’s different. It’s not that I want to say fuck you to Noah’s (very polite and civil and decent) boss but I don’t want my kids arriving at a mansion and immediately going into cleaning mode. No.

The little suburb where this house resides is outside the bubble of poverty growing and simmering in Portland. Right next to the country club.

It’s All Fine Here.

Rome is burning but It’s All Fine Here.

Raise taxes. Massively. Save the fucking country. Save all of the people who are literally not able to save themselves because they were born with the deck stacked against them. That sucks. It’s not fair.

There is no fair.

I’m anxious about this discussion tomorrow. I fear that I inserted myself more than I should have last time. It’s not about me. This is not my space. Just shut up already.

I think that if Jenny were less demonstrative in her glee about us moving there I would be flipping the fuck out. Instead every time I touch base with her a little she talks about another way she has thought up to ease my transition. I have bawled. She wants me that much.

People don’t extend invitations to me much. They expect me to invite myself. And then I either do it for too long or too short and I’m wrong again. She didn’t invite me… but she has greased the rails in ways big and small because she isn’t demonstrative but gosh she wants me there.

I want to be there.

I am nervous about all the changes. This will be a change in lifestyle from top to bottom. We are going to try to live on a very fixed, much lower income. (We have failure routes if that’s a problem.) We are going to put the kids in school for the first time in their lives. I will have my own bedroom where I can go be bitchy and not be bad. I can’t buy pot and I really shouldn’t buy much sugar or alcohol cause shit’s expensive. I’d rather furnish my house. I get to drink the fabulous tasty Scottish water and tea–unsweetened.

Unsweetened tea is going to be a hard jump. I’m just saying.

But I’ve made bigger, harder jumps before. I HAD FUCKING VEGETABLES THREE MEALS TODAY. LIKE A GOD DAMN HEALTHY PERSON.

Ok. I think I am tired enough to sleep. I hope. Ugh.