1 Day Left

Historically, my approach to major life changes has been to pretend like nothing is happening and then to do the laundry at the last possible minute. Leaving North Carolina will be no exception. In a little over 24 hours I'll be cruising up I-95 to scenic Bucks County, Pennsylvania with everything I own (and some stuff my parents own) in the trunk of my 1999 Volkswagen Passat. Nothing is ready. Nothing is clean.

These halcyon days are coming to a close. Imagine: at some point in the next year I will probably buy furniture.

I will not weep for these days until they are gone. That would be foolish. But I can't help but feel that, with every conversation I have with my tax consultant at PricewaterhouseCoopers, a smidgen of my youthful exuberance is wasted away.