Shifted in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Finally, FINALLY have shit piled into new loft. I don’t want to say that I’ve moved because it certainly doesn’t feel like I have. I feel like I packed and ran. Got the biggest lump in my throat as I coaxed the cat into his carrier, took one last look around the place, and locked the door behind me. Sure was an amazing space, that lost loft. I think I will learn to tolerate the new place. I keep telling myself it’s only temporary.

You won’t fucking believe what happened, either. Somebody bought the place right out from under me as I was moving out. Ain’t that a crap in the pants? I was sweeping up the last of the cat fuzz off the floor, when this couple wandered in and asked if I minded if they looked around. What could I say? I was moving out. Pfffft. I’ m sick of bemoaning this event. It’s done. It’s over. Move on.

Oops. I said it again. But the new place is okay. I’m glad they painted the concrete a warm terra cotta. I will take pix as soon as I get a few boxes unpacked. But you can be sure that I’m not going to unpack them all. Another move is looming. I just don’t know where yet. I suppose that should be an exciting challenge. I simply must stop making it such a dread. A scary one at that. I need to put some things into perspective immediately.

Hold on, I need to grab a beer (it’s all I have in the fridge, okay?).

Oh hell. Only I would buy bottles of beer w/o screw tops during a move. Can’t find the G.D. opener!! Looks like I’m not only a loser, but I’m a sober loser this Saturday night.

That was last night. I was delirious by the time I tried to open that bottle of beer. I think I went to bed around 10:30 (had gotten up at 4:30 to finish packing). It’s such a glorious day, as was yesterday and I don’t really want to waste it unpacking, but the problem is, the movers put boxes everywhere they would fit (small place, remember?) and now there are boxes piled up in front of the bathroom sink. I have to do some shifting and shuffling before I can even brush my teeth.

So I guess it’s off to wrangle boxes for a little while, and then I need to get out into the sunshine. This place is just a little bit like a cave, and I’m hoping it will motivate me to be OUT and about for the next few weeks/months before I move away.

I did see Jackhammer yet again yesterday as the movers were doing their thing, and I was rude, rude, RUDE to him. And when I went back into my loft I started to feel awful about being shitty with him. Even if he is overenthusiastic about me, I don’t have to be a cunt about the whole thing.

So I called him (I knew he was just two doors down), and told him that I wanted to apologize for being so rude, and he asked me to come over. So I did. He basically said, “Look, it’s been a long time since I’ve found someone I’m excited about. Someone who’s smart and creative and can appreciate certain things. I met you here, and I was thrilled to meet you. I travel all the time, and I knew that you were moving soon, so I time was of the essence where you and I are concerned. I wanted to get to know you quickly, and yes if that means calling you several times, then that’s what I did. But you wouldn’t answer your phone and I was working on this project that you told me you wanted to work on with me…..”

He went on and on, but it was sincere, and yes I did tell him the night that we met that I would be thrilled to work on his project the next day. I was just so wiped out from a shitty workday that I blew him off. I know, not very professional. I had a really cool opportunity to do something on the side, too.

So I can’t really make him out to be the biggest asswipe ever, because I play into that in a huge way. And I have a tendency to be something of an asswipe myself.

I do regret not working on that project with him. And I’m actually thinking about calling him to see if he wants to talk again tonight. I think now that I’ve asked him to please tone down the aggressive moves and have taken a stance with him that he will be more understanding. I hope so anyway. If not, it’s back to cuntville for me.

Well, we’ll see if I even get anything done. Need to get off this computer anyway so that I can at least wash my face and brush my teeth and get on with the million-box shuffle.