Went down to the storage space tonight. What a mess. It makes me want to cry. All of my memories I thought I’d so neatly tucked away and put into a corner have been opened and dumped alllllllll over the place. I feel so violated and foolish for letting that happen.
There is some freaking incriminating evidence. I found the lock. Underneath the rubble. It was closed and it hadn’t been cut, picked or tampered with as far as I could see. Weird.
And I also found a water bottle with–GET THIS–EXMS’s buddy’s name written on it!! This is the guy who helped EXMS move out. It was just sitting there in a corner, and I opened it. There was wet sticky goop on the inside…I’m thinking it was come kind of cocktail?
THEN I found two bags of trash stuffed into a TV armoire. Okay, disgusting, but I opened the bags: an empty bag of frozen shrimp, some dressing of some sort, canola oil, and decomposed gnawed-on cobs of corn. GROSS! And in yet another bag was a Saturday newspaper dated August 30,2008.
I think that one of a couple of scenarios happened (remember, I hadn’t been to the storage space since before EXMS moved out:
1. EXMS and his buddy moved his stuff out of the storage room on the day he moved out (back in May). It was probably the very end of the day when they got to the storage unit, so the lock was absentmindedly put on the floor, and Buddy forgot to pick up his water bottle, and they just left the place quickly. THEN, on August 30th, some drunks did some grilling and went to get something out of their storage space when they noticed a bursting full storage space with no lock. They were tipsy and saw that there was a little TV in there and ransacked the place to see if they could find any more stuff.
2. EXMS and his buddy were dickheads one night (August 30th?) and stumbled up to the storage space where they got his stuff, threw all of my crap out into a big pile and used my storage boxes (the really nice lockable ones) to take his stuff out. They ripped up photos and took a bunch of business cards that they found in one of the boxes and scattered them alllllll throughout the storage space.
Either way, EXMS had something to do with it because the lock was LEFT OFF of the door. Idiot. I’m really angry about that.
Plus, I didn’t get the greatest pix of me as a youngster because there was sooooooo much CRAP to pick up and throw back into boxes and semi-organize. I did manage to grab a photo album that my grandma made me, so that’s what I’m taking to therapy tomorrow.
I’m tired.
Semi-good news, though. I sent an email to Crushbook, the guy who wanted to spend the night with me tonight. I just told him that I was uncomfortable with the situation. He wrote back and said he’s relieved…that he thought that there was something wrong with HIM. No, I told him it wasn’t him, it was ME and blah. I feel much better about the sitch. Still, he’s pushy. He tried to call me and then he followed up with text(s). When I got back to the loft I told him I just wasn’t in the mood to talk/text/email/facebook, etc.
He finally took the “hints”. Sheesh.
I haven’t packed a thing yet for CR. I will def. do that tmr. Look at that! I’m so tired that I’m abbreviating evrthng!
OK. Tonight I’m grateful for:
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