"No, the cat's not for sale"

So. Developments:

The yard sale was a success, despite things being a little discombobulated in the beginning. I was able to get rid of almost everything without meeting too many creepers--though this one guy was super adamant about me selling my flute for $10. I told him to screw off, to which he immediately, and without any headway, replied that he liked my shirt. Ew.

I made out with $67. I put it in my change jar. I marked it "SWEDEN" about three weeks ago.

I won't lie: despite my revelation about two weeks ago, it still feels very weird to get rid of my things. It's definitely not so much that they're gone, but rather, the empty space in my room bothers me. I woke up the next day and instantly felt disgruntled looking around. Like I didn't belong there. Like there was nothing there I cared about. Which, inherently, is true, since the house itself is falling apart and I can count on my fingers the positive aspects of living in Wallingford at this point.

But that feeling's been an underlining theme this week. Actually, this week has been very hard. The pieces of my life are now falling away very quickly, and I'm feel like I'm scrambling to find some tangible understanding for what it means to be me without people, places, and things.

In addition, this Monday my leaving work was unexpectedly publicized in the weekly newsletter. For the first time in the two months I've planning for Europe, I was faced with my first round of goodbyes. Apparently, that means lots of well-intentioned happy hours. Lots of nice emails. Lots of hugging and "best of luck"s. But also, lots of wrapping up, check-out checklists, and other sad formalities.

I was ready for the loss of the material. I was not ready for goodbyes.

On the other hand, some other news:

- My Craigslist backpack is a dud. Not so cool. After I loaded it fully and trekked around with it, I discovered that it doesn't fit my shoulders properly. So, back to REI to buy my back up model, and perhaps then to a secondhand store to sell the old one.

- My boss at work was gracious enough to introduce me to a faculty scientist in Sweden. Let's see if science can once again save me from unemployment.

- Pippin, my beloved hamster, has a proper home. As does my double mattress, my white bathroom shelf, and--soon--my beautiful white bike and my beloved scooter.

Next week I move back home to Bainbridge. Back home to TV, the family dog, and the beautiful view of the  Cascades. Hopefully things will be better. There's only one thing that's standing in my way of being totally confident about this: my residence visa is still missing.