It's Time
Well, this is it.
It is my solemn prayer that at this time, 24 hours from now, all my belongings will be safely onboard Lee's truck... preferably without getting soaked by the everpresent rains that have drenched North Texas since -- well, January, or so it seems.
Since I'm already praying, let me add I also hope that, 48 hours from now, the aforesaid truck and belongings are in Albuquerque, waiting to be unloaded Sunday morning. And yeah, I'll also throw in a quick "Hail Mary" for all the crap to be off the truck by this time Sunday, in my new apartment, awaiting unpacking and sorting.
The next 72 hours are gonna be a lotta fun.
With all that's been going on this week, I've had little time to pause, and lament the fact my time as a Dallas resident is about to come to an end. There have been brief respites -- last weekend's trip to Austin comes to mind -- but I've honestly been too busy with work and packing to think about anything other than logistics of the impending uprooting. I haven't even taken one last drive through Addison Airport... and I'm not sure I'll have the chance to, at this rate.
The Dallas I moved to three years ago, isn't the same Dallas it is today. I'm no longer at AG, and Chickie's no longer at the Crow. No one hacks at the old job, anyway.
I'll miss my friends here. They're not the same as my friends back in ABQ.
I miss that somewhat wide-eyed optimism and uncertainty that lurked over my first few months out here. I don't think I settled into life as a Dallasite until three or four months after I got here.
I love this city. Warts and all -- and Dallas as many -- the metroplex moves at a perfect pace for me. Everything happens at 1.5 times the speed it does in Albuquerque; even traffic jams seem to go quicker here, at least to me.
I'll miss toll roads, and HOV lanes. Weird, I know.
I'll miss the feeling I got driving home from the inevitably late flights into DFW, returning from AOPA, Sun 'N Fun, or Oshkosh... moving at a quick clip down the GBT (George Bush Turnpike) at around 12:30 am, looking at the sleeping city and feeling like I was... home. Which is odd, because most wouldn't think of Dallas as the kind of place that instills that sense of familiarity.
I'll miss my Krogers down the road, and my dry cleaners right next door.
I'll miss skating trips, and Starbucks runs.
I'll miss my own private sanctuary, down the road just a bit further, called Addison Airport.
I'll miss the museums I didn't have a chance to visit, or visit enough. Ditto the Nasher Sculpture Garden, and the aquarium.
I'll miss the nighttime view of the downtown skyline, illuminated in all its glory.
I'll miss Dallas.