What mi amiga said: "You can just go and totally reinvent yourself. Do not even look back."
What my dad said: "It's about time."
What my mom said: "Don't you think this is what it's been about - not anyone else, just you not wanting to end up a querulous old lady?"
What YoungSon said, after laughing, his face making all its sweet crinkles, because I'm swooping around hoom-hooming a manic rendition of Phantom of the Opera - which has, I hope, very little to do with my news: "That's cool, Mom. Will you be gone when I come home from school?"
What Middlest said: "Yay! I'm so happy for you!"
What Fritz said: "So we can meet for lunches. How long is it going to take? Because we'll need to set that much aside."
Because this is what I told them.
And now I'm telling you since - just now - the word came through that all the official prerequisite flotsam has been nailed down. So when I come back in April I will be talking like this. Or trying to.
(Now back to the swooping and hoom-hooming)