Work's been crazy; gotta refill a position that became vacant in the office, have been picking up some slack from that vacancy, work travel coming up this week too, and have fallen a wee bit behind in my usual duties, alas.
Need to move out of my apartment by the end of the week. Been going through stuff to see what comes with, what gets tossed, and what's worth trying to sell. Am really bumming out about moving back in with the 'rents and feel kinda awful for bumming out, as they couldn't be more ready to help. But I just ache, ache, ache inside at having to move back into that small apartment (my parents own a two-family house and have the upstairs apartment). As well, it's in the town in which I grew up, which has seriously deteriorated since my youth. It's not merely a question of there's nothing to do/nowhere to go, it's actually become a dangerous place to live.
For those new to my blog, I'm moving back in with my parents, bless them, so that money I'd have put toward rent will go to my son's college fees. It's a sacrifice on several parts, mine and my parents, who're giving up space to me, free-of-charge, for which I am truly grateful. But the closer I get to the moving date, the more I feel I'm going to implode from the strain and the sense of loss.
I got no head space left for anything and this blog post is shite. I'm spent, y'all.
Gah, gah, GAH!
OK, tantrum over. For now.
Here's a pic of the sign I made to attempt to entice folks in my building to come buy my crap-that-I-don't-want-to-pack:
And here's a tune that's looping in my mind a lot, of late:
Postscript: I felt myself teetering so near the edge of despair that I texted my Dear Friend Nikki and we went out for comfort food. Spending the evening with her, bitching and laughing, really helped. Thank God for you, Nikki, and for all good friends, everywhere—y'all make the slogging-through-shit that much tolerable. (Plus, she let me unload some of my crap-that-I-don't-want-to-pack on her!) <3
