live from the lion's den

Lucky me, the lion's not home.

I'm at CB's waiting for the movers. I hate it here. She's been smoking in the house since I left and now it stinks in here like a cheap motel. Not to mention, I sit here with the constant nag that she'll turn up any minute. I gave her plenty of notice of my moving plans and I think she'll stay away, but still... my body feels nervous even if my mind knows better.

One bright spot was seeing the next door neighbor and her six year old daughter. They were great neighbors, so sweet, and the kid is pretty awesome. They gave me a big, three person hug and told me they missed me. I was planning to send them a card to let them know I appreciated having them as neighbors. Maybe I still will...

I got here way earlier than I needed to. I had a lot more to do, but when I got here at 3 I found that CB had done most of it. I was not particularly pleased, but I know she worked hard moving all my shit from my room into the living room for the movers. I'm sure there's something cathartic in it for her. Gives her some measure of control in this situation which, otherwise, leaves her thinking she's powerless. Of course, she never was powerless in this relationship, but it is her pathology to feel that way.

My plants and musical instruments are safely loaded in my car, out of the way of any bumbling movers. Everything else just sits waiting. Crossing my fingers and hoping my ginormous desk fits through the door of my new apartment...