So, a quick update into the moving process right now.
- I hate moving. I hate having to sort through things, get rid of things, pack things, haul everything to a new place all at once. I think that’s why my last move and this one have been slow moves. While I hired movers to take my furniture and books (cuz there’s no way in hell I’m lugging a dozen boxes of books to a second-floor walk-up), everything else can be packed and moved bit by bit. On moving day I’ll take a carload or two (or maybe three, if I’m that ambitious) over to the new place. Then it’s just a matter of taking a few boxes and bags of stuff over at a time. Technically, I have the entire month of March to do this, but not really because of reasons.
- Reasons. Most likely starting a new day job mid-March, which will be a full-time contract for about three months. Still keeping my booze jobs, and still technically have my book job (even though I haven’t had a shift there since December, and will most likely have to turn down the only offered shift there lately because of the move). So I’ll be back down to Friday nights, all day Saturday, all day Sunday, and one random weeknight at the booze job. But this time, I will have the luxury of knowing that I have guaranteed hours to look forward to during the week, so maybe I can take a weekend off a month or something.
- The Ever Curious Bowser Kitten seems anxious for our big adventure. I don’t know how to explain to a cat that we’re leaving the only home he knows, his only kitty friend in the world, starting a new life in a rough neighbourhood, and all right before his 5th birthday.
- Speaking of anxiety, my anxiety has been super high lately. I have burst out in tears while trying to hire movers, while answering phone calls, while trying to wake up in the morning. I know I need to go get help, but there just doesn’t seem like enough hours in the day. Every time I decide I’m going to get certain things done, The X does something like disappear for a few days or stay home from work. While this shouldn’t impact me, there are some things I need an extra body to help move to get ready for the movers. I also have all of my bookcases in his room (and his dresser in mine still, which I’m hoping to move tomorrow). So if he’s home sleeping all day, how the hell do I pack my things in there without waking him up and pissing him off?
- Yes, I still feel guilty about leaving here. But I also feel this weird sense of “fuck you” to certain people I’m stuck dealing with right now. I want to leave this place as clean and well-kept as possible for my landlord. He’s a good man, has a good family, and has always treated me extremely fairly. But at the same time, fuck you stupid roommate who lets his friends take over our kitchen for hours at a time making weed brownies, and only offers me one when it’s way too late for that due to early morning the next day. And fuck you, whoever stole my weed and my gummies and the few things I had that helped me fall asleep without panic (and which I can’t afford to replace right now so Hello Crazy Vivid Anxiety Dreams!). It’s like I’m sad to leave here, but not sad to go. It’s like watching a beautiful person with a fantastic ass but a horrible personality walk away from you: hate to see them leave, but love watching them go.
- My fantastic co-workers have been fantastic. I finally have someone to send my numerology and tarot readings to (why do they keep telling me to look pretty on Thursdays to attract love? Didn’t The Cure clearly state that it’s Friday’s I’m in love?). They let me vent whenever I need to, as I do for them too. We look at so many butts at work together, and so many fine-looking pants. I finally have people who are not freaked out by my vivid recollection of my dreams (even when they involve regular customers leading a triceratops through the streets). My very temporary seasonal co-worker has become some sort of calming force of alien zodiac energy (I swear, that boy’s soul is made of platypi and narwhals creating magic together in space). I will soon be the owner of a sloth-on-a-stripper-pole shower curtain thanks to them. And they made sure that the local patrol unit for our area not only knows whereabouts I’m moving to but why I’m moving there.
So less than a week before this whole shebang gets moving. I have so many things I’ve wanted to write lately, but haven’t had either the creative focus or the time to do so. Instead, I marathoned Locke & Key (very excellent), started The Witcher (very cool so far), have been keeping Final Space on in the background (why is a cartoon making me cry?), and finished reading one of the two books I took out to read before bed (American Gods is much better now that I’m older and know what the fuck I’m reading. William Gibson, my cyberpunk king, I will get back to you soon about Agency).
So right now I’m a giant ball of nervous energy. I go for a security clearance for the new hopeful job first thing in the morning. Then it’s a full day of book packing, followed by an entire evening of work. Thursday is my break from all of this, with my now-usual afternoon with the alien zodiac energy (that’s my weekly self-care until the new job makes us change our plans). Friday is work, packing, work, packing, and then back to work Saturday and Sunday mornings with packing and planning all evening.
And then Monday is moving day.