This. Is. Happening.

Monday started off like any other day: I got up, went to gym, came home, showered, fiddled around online, saw some clients. It was a pretty typical day, nothing special.

On my way home from the gym, I stopped at the UPS Store and bought one of four moving boxes I plan on purchasing. My first project was to be my kitchen. I know it sounds odd to pack up your kitchen when you still have a month and half left before you leave. But beginning Friday, the rental company can start showing my apartment to prospective renters. And the one room (other than the bathroom) that is always a wreck, is the kitchen. For a person who lives alone and almost never cooks, I always seem to have a sink full of dirty dishes. Often for weeks on end. The only way to keep on top of this, was just to wash everything and pack it away. It will keep my kitchen clean and put me one box closer to moving.

Later in the evening I talked to Troy on the phone. He’s a friend of mine who has graciously offered to drive me to California. We were hashing out some of the details on hotel rentals, departures times, etc. He and I pretty much have our plans set. Now it’s just a matter of watching the clock, working my ass off, collecting those dollars and tying up the many lose ends.

My move, that I’ve been talking about constantly for the better part of 11 months, was really starting to come together. The hugest benchmark has been my steadily growing savings account. I’ve worked harder and longer than any other time in my life and it’s absolutely paying off.

It was a very productive day on all fronts. I was winding down my evening on Facebook, posting, commenting, interacting, being a social media whore. I felt great pride in the progress I made, so I decided to take it a step further. I very casually posted the following status update:

I have stuff for sale. Mainly furniture. If you need stuff, I got some stuff. Send me a message if there’s anything you’re looking for. Everything must go — CHEAP!

Literally seconds after this post, email messages, IM’s and wall posts started pouring in. What do you have? Do you have pictures? How much? Can I come over and look at it? It was an unexpected onslaught of inquiries that I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I suddenly found myself fielding questions and negotiating with like six different people. It was a bit overwhelming, but clearly my little plan — as spontaneous and not well-thought-out as it was — had worked.

It had worked all right. I was selling all my furniture out from underneath my own feet. Holy fucking shit: I am moving! I am selling my shit. I am liquidating my life. All the talk and planning of the last 11 months was finally starting to turn into action.

I was suddenly sick to my stomach.

All I could think of was LCD Soundsystem. Their last album title seemed to completely encapsulate my feeling at that moment: This. Is. Happening.

I was ill because the reality and gravity of the situation suddenly crashed down like Thor’s hammer. The skies lit up, crackled with thunder, anxiety washed over me like a hard rain.

Make no mistake: I haven’t the slightest worry or hangup about moving to San Francisco. I have every faith in myself. I know I will succeed, I will flourish. But the idea of what I am doing is freaking me out right now more than the actual act of moving 2,100 miles away.

I am as prepared as I can possibly be, but it still feels weird. Here I am with less than two months left in Chicago and it seems like it’s all happening now so very quickly, just like everyone told it would.

I unexpectedly opened a Pandora’s Box with that status update. It’s been a good thing, but it’s left my head and heart swirling with hundred different emotions. If just talking about selling this stuff put me in such a weird state, I can only imagine what it’ll feel like when folks are carting stuff out of my apartment forever.

This. Is. Happening. -fin-