I’m pretty sure I will be moving this coming Monday, this time. I would have gone Wednesday but today the car battery died. Right now we aren’t sure if it will start to take it back to Barrie when they call and let us know they have the battery in. We went to the Barrie Honda dealership cause they are always good and explain things until you really run out of questions. They never rush you and, they don’t charge for every least thing they do with the car. Likely that’s cause it’s a Honda. Anyway, that is where we spent a large part of this afternoon. Turns out the car has it’s wires crossed so the battery that routinely would have been right for the car, wasn’t. When they phone tomorrow we will be taking the car back out there again.
At this point in the great migration I’m glad for another reason to stall on moving. My brother says everything I have moved down there already (most of my clothes, books and kitchen gadgetry) is all musty from being in a dampish basement apartment for the past few months. Oh joy and bliss. One more thing on my list of things I have to do and already won’t be overwhelmingly happy about.
The people upstairs have not one, but three cats. I had heard about the one. Likely the other two are the kittens they promised to get rid of back in May when they shat all over the basement apartment. The very basement apartment that the people upstairs were not renting but decided to remodel into a cat toilet anyway. Thanks… Not quite.
At this point I have no savings and there is no part of me, not even my littlest finger, that can find some enthusiasm for job hunting. Not that I have a choice there. My savings are pittifully all gone. I have bills from the apartment which I have yet to move into. But, I did sign up for phone service, back in June.
I have a lovely cold sore too. It’s itchy and not very cute looking. At least I just finished my bloody mess for the month, it came more than a week early. Still, I prefer that to having it stop and making me think I was going into early menopause as it did when I got divorced.
What else… the bus thing. I can’t dig up enthusiasm for going back to taking the TTC everywhere. Having a car has spoiled me. Especially when I think of grocery shopping and most of all, grocery hauling around back to the dwelling of musti-catness.
I’m trying not to say anything about anything I’m thinking or feeling to anyone involved in the apartment massacre. Each time I say anything about how pissed off I almost feel they tell me how wrong I am to feel that way. It’s always been like that for me. The nice sister is not allowed to be un-nice. Never get angry or be less than nice and pleasant towards all mankind. People don’t get it that nice grrls are not stupid or door mats. So, I kindly let them live with their blinders on and I just deal with everything inside myself. Though, it is odd to have them ask me why I don’t talk more about my feelings and choose to keep most of what I think to myself.
If they don’t really want to hear or to allow me to have feelings (not according to the Nice Grrl Plan) then stop asking for my thoughts. Don’t ask me to pull threads and then get pissy if I begin to unravel in ways you don’t like.