Twas the night before

I've done my two weeks of unexpected labor, complete with free editing services for an ad that my dad is putting up on Craigslist for online tutors. (You know, of all the duties I've grudgingly taken on, I hated the editing the most. Which is weird, considering that I do like writing. I just hate trying to get through the business bullshit to figure out what my dad really means.) I picked up Joiner at the airport a few hours ago -- poor thing, I've essentially left her alone the past hour to work on this ad -- and I'm about to wash up and go to bed, for tomorrow the cross-country trip begins.

And you know, all I feel is guilt about leaving my dad and grandmother. I hate myself sometimes. I just want to be free to enjoy life, but I never seem to be able to let myself.

I'm also sad to be leaving my dad and grandmother. Like a self-absorbed teen, death is never far from my mind, and I'm always aware that this time may be the last time. You just never know -- with anyone, not just elderly people.

So there: I'm gloomy, guilt-ridden, and so goddamn tired. But at least bigbro opined on Sunday that the house seemed all right, mold- and wiring-wise. It actually looks like a place you'd live in. We finished the last touches today, gave it all a final vaccuum, and now it feels like a house, instead of a dark, cold, spider- and fly-infested cave.

On the road, I'm not sure how much internet access I'll have, but I'll try to update as I go. I hope that as the road unwinds before us, so will I.