Like being stoned...
It seems like a good time to post. As of 4 minutes ago it is technically Friday the 13th. I am for the last time working and thinking in this apartment that has been my loading zone for the next stage of my existence. Paul and Steph were nice enough to let me come and live with them, but now I am embarking on my own little journey out here in VA. They are going back to Chicago and I am staying here to hack out what there is to hack out in this strange state. I am happy. For the first time in a long time I can type that sentence and be ok with the period at the end.
This apartment was good to me during the short time I was here. I had my own room/personal space to myself for first time in a long long time and now I am ready to cohabit an environment with someone who I really truly appreciate. I will be putting my name down on a lease for the first time in 3 years. No weird borderline illegal situations. I feel so adult. I like that feeling. I never realized how therapeutic it can be to pay bills, arrange payments, check my bank balances and save money.
My life is strewn around me in various bins, boxes and holding devices. My clothes are folded except for the ones I will wear tomorrow. It is strange because they won't be folded again ever most likely, but for now they are organized. My books are stacked and packed in neat little boxes that my mother originally shipped them to me in. Apparently the best way to pack is to never really unpack. It will be so nice to get to my new apartment and unload everything and put it away and give it a place it "belongs". There is that word again... maybe this time I will feel like I am supposed to be somewhere. That feeling that a lot of people get when they know they are exactly where they are supposed to be. I rarely get that feeling and when I do it is only fleeting like that thought that I originally starting writing this entry to put down on paper ( or screen in this case) then as soon as I start typing it is gone to be replaced with other thoughts and feelings that replace it...
This apartment was good to me during the short time I was here. I had my own room/personal space to myself for first time in a long long time and now I am ready to cohabit an environment with someone who I really truly appreciate. I will be putting my name down on a lease for the first time in 3 years. No weird borderline illegal situations. I feel so adult. I like that feeling. I never realized how therapeutic it can be to pay bills, arrange payments, check my bank balances and save money.
My life is strewn around me in various bins, boxes and holding devices. My clothes are folded except for the ones I will wear tomorrow. It is strange because they won't be folded again ever most likely, but for now they are organized. My books are stacked and packed in neat little boxes that my mother originally shipped them to me in. Apparently the best way to pack is to never really unpack. It will be so nice to get to my new apartment and unload everything and put it away and give it a place it "belongs". There is that word again... maybe this time I will feel like I am supposed to be somewhere. That feeling that a lot of people get when they know they are exactly where they are supposed to be. I rarely get that feeling and when I do it is only fleeting like that thought that I originally starting writing this entry to put down on paper ( or screen in this case) then as soon as I start typing it is gone to be replaced with other thoughts and feelings that replace it...