We started out with Rebecca's birthday. That kind of fell apart: I had one idea for a party that didn't see fruition, and I tried to coordinate another party with a friend but didn't follow through on it, so he assumed the event was canceled. Which, in practice, it was. I tried to make up for that with some interesting gifts, one particularly hard to retrieve, so I hope Rebecca felt special even if she's married to a procrastinator.
Mid-month was when we moved out of the East Isles apartment (above Tao Natural Foods) and into the Fulton apartment, half a mile from the pricey 50th & France shopping district. The move did not go smoothly: Rebecca underestimated the outlandish volume of property we've accrued, so it took two guys four hours, instead of one hour, to move it all into the truck. But they called a third guy, and we pitched in, so we got it all hustled into the Fulton apt. within 45 minutes.
|"I'm not an omen, but I can see how you'd be confused."|
That means we'll be moving out at the end of August. I can only hope August is a slightly cooler month, temperature-wise, than July has been. I also hope, of course, that we can find another apartment before September. Rachel and David, my in-laws in the neighborhood, have generously offered to let us camp out in their household for as long as we need, so we have a support network.
|Just in time for the company rebrand.|
|Genuine happiness and community.|
So... I'm just muddling through. The cable and gas bills are completely befuddled by the transfer of services so we've lost the luxury of auto-pay so our bills may be overdue, but I'll take care of that. I'm used to corporate incompetence; it's disingenuous to act surprised when these things go wrong, because they always and reliably go wrong. The stabbing headaches I get from the off-gassing carpets are finally beginning to subside, though one of our cats is presenting as sluggish and inactive: I think it's depression but Rebecca thinks he's poisoned from the fumes. Neither answer is reassuring. There has been no downtime for me (except staying late at work, which is peaceful and uplifting, which is a damned strange thing to say) or Rebecca, who I know desperately needs a quiet couple of hours. We've been so stressed, we've been squabbling with each other, but when things are quiet we're starved for each other. I really hope we can secure a new apartment, move all our bullshit in, throw half of it away (sell, donate, give to friends, etc.), and sometime in September forge a quiet evening to relax.