Counting down

12 days and we U-haul out of here for points south. Virtually all of Bridgette’s apartment remains to be packed, and a significant fraction of my old apartment still needs packing — and all of my stuff needs to be removed from the old apartment, no later than Thursday, since the lease is up then. Saturday Zelda and I packed a lot of it and staged the boxes in the living room, but there is still a few hours of work to do, and then some clean up. So Sunday I did laundry and picked blueberries and interacted closely with Bridgette, all of which was necessary and good, none of which was getting clear of that apartment. The close interaction was more than just necessary and good; it’s been three weeks or more since we have had the leisure to just be touchy-feelie homebodies and focus an entire day demonstrating that we enjoy that. So, hey, I’m glad and more than glad, and smug and giddy over yesterday.

But I didn’t get clear of the apartment. At all.

Not that I’m stressing. No, not at all.

Okay, I’m stressing.

But I still wouldn’t trade yesterday. All the tense bits inside are wonderfully relaxed and calm. Earthquakes, forest fires, and untimely commercial breaks will fail to raise my heart rate right now.

I’m selling my motorcycle in hopes of furthering various personal goals that require money, like buying iris for the garden and staying solvent. I need to finish work on the bike before it can be sold, but that’ll come, I think, later this week.

On an odd note, Zelda called and told me she is being evicted from her trailer park for having piles of garbage and an ugly, unkept yard for the better part of a year. On careful inspection of actual facts, she has 30 days to repair those issues or she will be evicted, so this isn’t quite the crisis it sounded. I agreed to lend what help I could, but I have to move twice in the next twelve days, so won’t be available for much until after that, and may be committed to my own issues after that. I’d as soon not make this my problem, in any case, but the kids live there as well, which makes the issue fuzzy…sort of.

Well. I’ll stay out of it as much as I can, probably entirely.

Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry