As of around 11:30 am yesterday, relief came texting through in a note from Todd advising that the final counter offer on the house was accepted.
After a week or so of dickering back and forth, a mutually acceptable agreement has been reached. We are to be out as of February 1st, and this portion of my life will be at a close.
I was going to type “will be mercifully closed,” but that would be both unfair and unkind. Todd and I have had a spectacular ten years together and I’m sad, maybe a bit wrecked, to see the end of it. The merciful part is only in that the ending, now that it has come, is quick. Breaking up is hard to do, even for the right reasons. Hell, I think that makes it harder. Plus, there were concerns that selling the house would be a dragged out process. If the final counter offer hadn’t been accepted we would be forced to wait even longer, starting from scratch when we had already made arrangements to be out at a certain date. We both want to move on.
But no worries now. All engines are go. We are cleared for take off.
And I’m excited, truth be told. While the technical aspects of getting all my stuff out of here before February 1st will be a challenge, I always did like a good move. Gets the blood pumping while you focus on the task. Gets you looking at all your junks and treasures again, giving you a chance to redefine and rebuild yourself. I will out of necessity have to put on my space economizing hat, as the apartment is much smaller than the current sprawl I’m used to. But if there was one thing I got out of my summers away is that I don’t need, or even like, a lot of space. Concise, functional, and whimsical — that’s what it will be.
So I opened up a bottle of wine last night and toasted to the selling of the house and to the New Year ahead.
And to writing.
It may be a skoosh early for a retrospective of the year, but why not?
2009, up until about the beginning of November, was the best year I’ve had as far as my writing is concerned. I’ve connected with a group of writers who have become very important to me. I wrote more words this year then ever before. I finished three short stories. (“Drafts only!” my inner critic shouts from the back of the room.) I finished my second novel. (“Only a draft!!” she squeals again before I lob a pillow at her.) I even submitted a short story for publication. (“Edited, I might add,” I say to the critic, who is giving me the silent treatment.)
But most importantly, I see the path ahead. Writing isn’t a magical process, something impossible or something other people do. It only took twenty years, but now I see it for what it is. Like cooking, writing is one part science and one part art. And I can do science. I can do art.
I can do this.
Here’s to 2010. Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas. May you find yourself at peace, surrounded by family and friends. And may the New Year be as fantastic as you make it to be!