We've both agreed that this is the hardest thing we've ever done. Physically and mentally exhausting. Whatever part of our brains it is that's responsible for decision making has been fried to a crisp from overuse -- do I pack this? Sell it? Bring it? Every object in the house, every number programmed into the phone, every piece of mail that comes, every card in your wallet -- all suggest a different task to do, address to update, friend to contact, payment to arrange, account to cancel. House is a shambles, but it's starting to look like we're actually moving. My parents are in town to help and see us off, which is great. We took them out to our favorite restaurant, Fritti, tonight.

Heard this song while driving around the other day, and it really put a lump in my throat as it relates to some feelings I've been having...

Galbraith Street (by Ron Sexsmith)

I woke up on Galbraith Street
Where the houses stood like twins
Oh and even though the door's been closed
I can find a way to get back in

For in daydreams my mind returns
Like a ghost upon the hill
As I knock upon old doors again
And find my friends all live there still

So many good times to speak of in a life
But none compare to the good times I had there

The world looks so much brighter when you believe in every word
Now I'm holding on to all those years like a tear before it falls unheard

So many goodbyes to speak of in a life
But none compare to the goodbyes I said there

The sun went down on Galbraith Street
I saw it from my childhood bed
As the red and gold brick houses stood
Underneath a crimson sky that bled