Moving in, moving out
Real life post, feel free to ignore! We should return to fanfic posting soonish. Everything is on hold right now while I make major changes in my life.
I hate moving. This is my fourth move as an adult. And I'm moving in with Brother J, his wife, L, and their son, Nephew T. (I'm the youngest of five kids; we're big and loud and complicated.) I'm not exactly happy about moving in with them. I love them, we get along beautifully, and I'm happy to be able to spend more time with my nephew (he will be two at the end of the month). But.
I'm a grown woman and I don't want to live alone. That's the main reason I'm choosing to not get an apartment of my own. It's also a bit cheaper and I could really use some time to pad my savings account for those annoying expensive emergencies that crop up at the most inconvenient times.
I just get all anxious about moving and my stuff and what I'm going to do with the stuff that won't fit in my room and and and. (Yeah, I'm going from a house where my two-bedroom apartment stuff fit well with my roommates one-bedroom apartment stuff to a single bedroom. Hello, storage unit, nice to meet you.) I'll be better when it's over and I'm moved, but until then, I'm just a ball of nerves. I keep waking up with panic attacks in the middle of the night. Or I have screaming zombie nightmares. I think I actually prefer the screaming zombie nightmares, though. At least I get some manner of sleep.
So I'm wasting time at work on tumblr and LJ. I don't like to whinge about my problems to The Internets. (I'm really not looking for sympathy. I have a BFF and two brothers for that.) I just need to get my words out, I guess.
I do okay at managing my finances, usually. But living in the house with my roommates sort of spoiled me. I like having a big kitchen. I like having space to spread out. I'm shrinking my entire life back into a single bedroom and I just can't be excited about that. I also have a bird. A Patagonian Conure, in fact. And he will have to be in my bedroom with me. Which is likely to be good for him as he did not enjoy the last two years with Other People and Other Animals In His Space. (Capital letters are not optional. My boy is particular about many things.) But that's just one more thing that I have to make room for.
I suppose I just have to think about this as an impetus for me to change. I'm typically a shy person. I'm not gregarious; I don't make friends and acquaintances easily. I know I'll need time out of the house, so maybe I could join a book club to get time away. I'm also not familiar with the area I'll be living in, so I'll have to explore for new bookshops and coffee places and tasty new restaurants. Really trying to think positively. I'm sure that will be easier once the move is over and done with and I'm relaxing in my room with a tasty adult beverage and my bird.
At least Glee will be new tonight. I can watch that and relax for a bit before I have to pack moar.
I hate moving. This is my fourth move as an adult. And I'm moving in with Brother J, his wife, L, and their son, Nephew T. (I'm the youngest of five kids; we're big and loud and complicated.) I'm not exactly happy about moving in with them. I love them, we get along beautifully, and I'm happy to be able to spend more time with my nephew (he will be two at the end of the month). But.
I'm a grown woman and I don't want to live alone. That's the main reason I'm choosing to not get an apartment of my own. It's also a bit cheaper and I could really use some time to pad my savings account for those annoying expensive emergencies that crop up at the most inconvenient times.
I just get all anxious about moving and my stuff and what I'm going to do with the stuff that won't fit in my room and and and. (Yeah, I'm going from a house where my two-bedroom apartment stuff fit well with my roommates one-bedroom apartment stuff to a single bedroom. Hello, storage unit, nice to meet you.) I'll be better when it's over and I'm moved, but until then, I'm just a ball of nerves. I keep waking up with panic attacks in the middle of the night. Or I have screaming zombie nightmares. I think I actually prefer the screaming zombie nightmares, though. At least I get some manner of sleep.
So I'm wasting time at work on tumblr and LJ. I don't like to whinge about my problems to The Internets. (I'm really not looking for sympathy. I have a BFF and two brothers for that.) I just need to get my words out, I guess.
I do okay at managing my finances, usually. But living in the house with my roommates sort of spoiled me. I like having a big kitchen. I like having space to spread out. I'm shrinking my entire life back into a single bedroom and I just can't be excited about that. I also have a bird. A Patagonian Conure, in fact. And he will have to be in my bedroom with me. Which is likely to be good for him as he did not enjoy the last two years with Other People and Other Animals In His Space. (Capital letters are not optional. My boy is particular about many things.) But that's just one more thing that I have to make room for.
I suppose I just have to think about this as an impetus for me to change. I'm typically a shy person. I'm not gregarious; I don't make friends and acquaintances easily. I know I'll need time out of the house, so maybe I could join a book club to get time away. I'm also not familiar with the area I'll be living in, so I'll have to explore for new bookshops and coffee places and tasty new restaurants. Really trying to think positively. I'm sure that will be easier once the move is over and done with and I'm relaxing in my room with a tasty adult beverage and my bird.
At least Glee will be new tonight. I can watch that and relax for a bit before I have to pack moar.