Move Already II

I had all this stuff to write about today- couldn’t wait to get done with all the work stuff to get on the blog. It’s all gone; can’t remember a thing- other than I can’t spell and Napoleon really does have Alzheimer. Oh, and pomegranates are very difficult to eat and they stain the shit out of your clothes. Thanks GH, I’ll make sure Vinnie pees on all your work shirts- that won’t do though: they’re already stained with dead men juice probably.

Anyway, the weather is calling for freezing sleet and I’m still at the office when I really should be home. Then again, I’m thinking I don’t really like where I’m staying, I don’t like using the bathroom there and I can’t really picture me doing any sort of workout. I really should be looking for alternate accommodations- I think I rushed into this one. What else is there to a “home?” If you’re not comfortable using the bathroom- it is immediate grounds for moving- if you can. And I can at this point, it seemed so much easier to just stay there thru December- but the month looks a lot longer when I look at it from this particular point of view. What could be better I thought? My supposed roommates are a Librarian girl and an Opera singer- sounded so interesting. But the lack of conveniences at the place is growing insurmountable in my head.

For instance, I have to log all my shit to the bathroom when I take a shower. One, I’m a freak about leaving my toothbrush out in the open in a small enclosed space that includes constant flushing of the toilet. Do you know how many bacteria/nasty shit floats up in the air and settles onto your toothbrush per flush? It’s bad enough your own flush ends up on the bristles you then introduce to your mouth. You’ve put worse stuff into your mouth you say? That’s fine and all, but speak for yourself and don’t come here trying to kiss me.

I also have no furniture in the bedroom other than a futon. The futon is not as bad as I thought I’d be. Cheap futons have come a long way since I bought my first futon ever back in the 90’s- looong time ago- it was like sleeping on assorted, pointy, flaming rocks or something similar. And sex on it? Forget it, complete murder. Good thing my thenboyfriend was always a quickie when it came to that. What?!? I didn’t know any better.

There’s also no functioning closet in the bedroom. The rod is too long and Librarian girl has been unable to install it. She did install the two supporting ends to each side of the closet walls though. My clothes lay either on top of the luggage or on random spots on the closet door that’s resting against a wall in the bedroom.

Curtains? Blinds? Old crazy-pattern sheets? Aluminum foil? Nothing! Complete lack of privacy- have to turn off the lights when I change at night or get dressed in the morning. Or take more stuff on my trips to the bathroom. Not good. Librarian girl said that the surrounding houses don’t really look into her house, there’s a really old lady who’s blind in one, some guy and his girlfriend in another and I forget what else she said. But her dad is coming to install window stuff some time in January, so come January I’ll be free to do what I usually do when alone in my bedroom, which includes lots of jumping and other clotheless activities. ‘Till then though I’ll have to forgo all this- I don’t want to be the neighborhood freak, besides I wouldn’t be making any money off it either and times are tough.

There’s no washer or dryer on the premises. There’s no teapot in the kitchen. The list goes on, need I more reasons to get out? Apparently so.

Just Move Already

So I’m back in my office. The Atlanta office, the office that has all my pictures; the kids’, the fake boyfriends’, my trip to Colorado, pictures of green things. And I realize that this isn’t really my office anymore- not really anyway. These guys, Napoleon and all, have me all moved and tidily packed off to Charlotte. As if taking a person and shipping them off is that simple. But it is that simple. To them it is filling a position that is severely lacking. To me, right now, is leaving everything that’s ever come closest to being “at home.” How do I explain that? And even if I did it’d only be words coming out of my mouth; words that wouldn’t even register in their brains or anywhere else. You could say NO you say? Right, I could say no- but that wouldn’t be the best, smartest or easiest move on my part either.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t too long ago when I sat in my tiny patio and thought that the solution to all my problems then would be to start anew, to start fresh somewhere far away where nobody knew me and it’d all be better. And here it is; although Charlotte isn’t exactly far away. Charlotte isn’t exactly new. So I was thinking the other day- while talking to myself- here it is! A chance to do something I was actually wanting to do not too long ago- but it was long ago enough to have forgotten why I wanted to do it in the first place. Kind’a too far back to remember right now even though it was 2005.

Maybe I’m mixing my personal stuff with my business stuff. I should listen to my own brand of advice. One of the young ones here (my favorite young one even though he's started sporting a beard since his trip to Israel) is facing the moving dilemma after his training is completed. His move won’t come until well into Summer 2006 probably but it’s weighing on him heavily. He keeps basing his relocation on the # of miles away from his girlfriend; a girlfriend who refuses to even entertain the idea of even thinking of moving here to be closer to him even though she doesn’t have a job or any other responsibility to keep her where she is at right now. A girlfriend who refuses to even speak about anything further than 2 months down the road even though she claims she wants a family and all the stuff that comes with it- with him supposedly. A girlfriend who gets further away the closer they get- or something like that. A girlfriend who’s just not that into him at the end of the day; a fact he refuses to see, because perhaps it will show him his own weaknesses and the fallacy of the human condition when it comes to significant others who refuse to see us as we see them, whom we refuse to see in plain light as they see us.