If there were any lingering doubts about my decision to move, they were erased last night at 1 AM, when I crossed through the Gary, Indiana toll booth on 90.

I’ve spent the morning wandering, aimlessly but not. Thanks to Wade for providing the iPod last birthday, and Neely for reminding me that Porcupine Tree is perfect wandering music; the past hour’s walking through random streets has energized me, brought out the determination to make this happen. And, as Wade predicted, probably sooner than the original plan. Not before I’m ready, mind you — unfortunately, I’m not at a point where I can just pack my shit in a truck and go (though if that lottery ticket hits, or a screenplay magically sells, the three day countdown is on).

It’s overwhelming to me, and I can’t decide if it’s the city, the context, or the idea of transplanting myself. I’m not uncomfortable, on the one hand; I’m built for the city. Especially this one, that makes me feel so much more at home than I do where I keep my stuff. On the other hand, I feel like a country yokel at times, stopping to grin uncontrollably at all the snow on the sidewalk, staring off at the skyline (ohmygod, there are buildings higher than 12 stories here!). I’m sure this — like the rest of the intensity that is washing over me even now, back in a quiet and could-be-anywhere place — will fade, given time.

But then, part of me hopes it doesn’t, because one of the things that is so attractive to me about this city is the intensity. Chicago feels alive. Things are happening here (even if some of those things suck, like the city council approving an additional $1 per pack tax on cigarettes — looks like I’m quitting, or finding someone to ship them to me from Birmingham), and not at some sad, tortoise-like pace. I think southward, and I feel like Birmingham is where you go to die, or at least nap for a long time…

It’s going to be a major adjustment, in some ways, but maybe not so much as I think. In fact, I kind of hit a weird calm spot just exactly as I was typing that sentence out… There will be the issue of finding new places to get all my things, new bars, new friends, but I think after I get moved and find a job, it won’t be nearly so scary as I keep trying to make it out to be.

There’s a lot to do, and I’m not entirely sure where to start, so I suppose I’m just going to drop my finger down on the list and go from there.