Falling Into Place.

Last week, I had an indication that my dream job, though still a dream job, will not be one for much longer.

Yesterday was the deadline for submission of the documents required for processing my Canadian permanent residency visa. On the same day, I rescued two beautiful kittens and was able to convince the local animal shelter to accept them and take care of them, even though they've stopped accepting animals for adoption for some time now. An hour later, I met with my landlord (whom I have never met, since he lives in the States) who advised me that our go-between, the kind and elegant Ms. G, had passed the previous week. My landlord was a good friend of Ms. G., and she had been all praises about what an ideal tenant I was. He's a nice elderly man who asked after my cat, and told me to get another one once he found out that dear Crinkle had died last year. He also asked about my immigration plans and encouraged me to push through with them. Our contract stays; it's just that he would need to find a replacement for Ms. G. to handle my affairs while he's abroad.

Today, my sister asked me if she can have my treadmill -- in case I don't plan on selling it, or can't manage to sell it -- when I leave for Canada.

I think these are signs. I think I would need to let go of a lot -- people, stuff accumulated throughout the years. But after that, I think I can let loose and fly, and get to know new people, and get new stuff. I get to live a different life in a new city.

I cannot wait.