As I officially launch into the very last month that I'll perhaps ever live in SLO-town, I realize the emotional roller-coaster is starting to kick into high gear. I simply love this place too much. An evening spent at Spike's, for instance, is almost enough to bring me to tears. I'm excited to leave (who wouldn't be?) and still all twisted up inside because I absolutely hate that I'm going. What's wrong with me?
To make matters worse, close on the heels of this insoluble dilemma is another pet problem I can't shake: somehow I'm compelled to constantly wrack my brain itemizing every last possible thing that I want to do, see, or eat before I leave this place. And woe is me if I leave something out.
Here's the thing: I usually think of myself as a guy who's pretty okay with just about everything, and certainly not subject to fits of neurosis. It's at times like this that I find myself alternately clinging to that guy and wanting to curl up on the floor and have a good bawl.
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