|
New
Old
Profile ~
Email
Notes ~
Host
Image
Design Average Tuesday. Mid day entry. Won't be many of these. The house is quiet, finally, except for the black cat meowing at my heels. He's lonely, can't blame him, been a few weeks of chaos for us all. We moved April 1st after spending a year and a half in a one bedroom; all three of us. Alternating schedules of sleep between couches, beds, couches, futons, etc. Attempted to save to move in the summer, but this car, that car, the other car, all having problems forced us to dip into savings. Then come February her car dies. Thus begins two months of trying to save for a car, to move, find a car, pack, lose a car, pack some more, find a mover, find out we're broke, need to move, etc. Chaos. He couldn't take off work to move. She is rather lazy and barely helped. So I packed, and planned, and got a mover, and worked overtime for deposit money, and burned a vacation week to pack some more. April 1st was a day of chaos by myself between two apartments, 3 illegal cats, 1 car, and yet two very nice movers. I unpacked as quickly as I could. Wanted it to feel like a home. Boxes nag at my brain from the closet I'm still here and I ignore them. Now I'm paying off a debt to my job for the advance I took to move and get her new car, so my paychecks are shit, the bills from old and new place pile up, two car payments screaming at me, and everyone threatening me. And I work. Overtime as much as possible. And then do dishes, laundry, litter boxes, dusting, unpacking, all the shit that needs to get done that no one else seems to notice. I still need furniture, she needs furniture, we need furniture, so boxes remain hidden with my life still in them. It's pure chaos here, and the only place I find peace and quiet is in the shower. Yet even there I see the spots on the ceiling, and make mental notes to complain to management about the upstairs folk yet again. I can't seem to relax, unless I escape into the story I'm writing. I wrote a few pages while listening to my mp3 player and watching the clothes go round and round at the laundromat. That 30 minutes of release of ideas and imagination gave me the strength to continue the day. Brief stop here, then dishes to unload, clothes to put away, and time to prepare dinner. I just realized I forgot to eat today. |