4am, a stolen car smashes into my fiance's parked car at his parent's home. It looks as though it may be a write off. the front of the car is smashed, both front wheels are bent out of alignment. No one is hapy. His family and I are all awoken, and don't get back to bed until 6:30 am. We are somewhat in shock and worried about what this may mean, not only in terms of transportation issues, but also financial issues, as more wedding expenses will be coming up.
1pm, I return to my place, to find the most disgusting flood in my bathroom, ever. Shit, toilet paper, everything is overflowing the toilet and dripping everywhere onto the tiles, out into the hall, but thankfully not onto the carpet. It's even backed up into my tub, so that it is filled with this murky ugly stinky water. Pieces of pooh and fecal matter float around, and I try to clean it up with the help of my brave SHC. We give up and let the landlord take care of it. I've thrown out everything that was on the floor and touching that icky water, including a file-cabinet box, some wrapping paper, a painting that I was working on, bath mat, shower curtain, and 3 towels. The main pipe outside the house was clogged with leaves, silt, and branches, and all water trying to leave the house, ended up backing up into my space. I make the decision that day, to leave and return to my mom's to live. I will not live in a fecal contaminated place, nor a place that is prone to such flooding.
3pm, I begin to pack up my clothes, and give my very short notice about my decision.
6pm, on our way to a dinner with friends, a 1 hour wait, then steaks, then a night of games.
Jan 1, 1am, exhausted and drained, we return home to my mom's.
I am crying occasionally over the very sudden loss of my home of 2.5+ years - a place that i've grown to love, and solitary space that I've treasured and cherished. But I am almost confident that my decision to leave is the correct one. Such flooding is no laughing matter, and it certainly gave me a good cry yesterday (and still does). I worked hard to make that place my home, which is probably why I am feeling so sad. I will need to take some last photos of me in that home, before I truly give up my keys. I am still attached to that place, and it will take me a week or so to truly start moving on.
January 1, 2007.
A new year, yay *sarcasm*. I'm not very happy, but chances are, nothing in 2007 will be as bad as December 31, 2006. Still moving, packing and unpacking, and adjusting to living with my mom again. I am hating this whole situation right now, but there's no other choice. Things will look up soon, I hope, but it's hard because I keep looking back at what will be gone.
3 comments:
Just because you are going to live the next 50+ years with your mom doesnt mean you should be unhappy.... just kidding. I know you like your freedom and just like with "pupperoni" actually even more so i will mourn your loss datrash
:(
*hugs* :(
I'm not sad that I am moving home. My mom's cool about it, and much more relaxed. It's the circumstances that sucks. I just wasn't prepared for it. Everything just happened so quickly - literally within hours. I'm trying to adjust to the loss of a good home. All my stuff is strewn about my mom's house, and I can't even find where I put certain things because they are all in bags. And I still have things at the other place, and plus Steve's damaged car is another stress factor too. My room at my mom's house looks like a dump (literally) because everything is in black garbage bags.
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