i knew it.

the haitian woman i work with, when i handed her the envelope for my boss, looked at me. and i told her.

i knew it.

she said.

i could feel it in here.

when are you leaving?

where are you going?

congratulations.

she shook my hand.

i have to see everyone this afternoon, then work tonight. the store manager, all he said was,

i'm sorry to see this.

and i left, lighter than air.

there's something wonderful about leaving a place, going somewhere new. i like an adventure. i am a bit nervous, what if i'm poorly trained? what if i can't handle a seven hour shift my first day.

i know i can. it's just the jitters. and my j key sticks now so sometimes when i write jitters it comes out itters. and i'm going to just start leaving off the when they don't come out. see. lovely.

now today, i have to find that last editing pro ect. i'm ready to just get it off my plate for good. though it's a quagmire of editorial nits i have to pick, and i'm not looking forward to it. by far my most challenging project.

there's something about the layout of a book that speaks to the value the publishers place on the work. bly's book of ghazals is printed only on the right facing page.

i read it and thought, amazing. beautiful.

to have reached a place in your career, in your life, where a publisher will willingly part with that kind of negative space and be okay with it. just wonderful.

notice i'm using a lot of js. but they keep appearing. so just remember, they won't always be there. something he said to me once and i didn't believe. tori amos has this line,

i ran from him, in so many ways, guess it was his turn this time.

so true. so true.

i'm not running anymore. i'm looking forward, come what may.