Moving Craziness.

Earlier this week a friend really punched my emotions in the stomach.  This was part of the conversation:

“Is your ex going to help move you?”
“I don’t know.  He’s being noncommittal right now.”
“At least he’s consistent.”

Ouch.  That hurt.

That all said, this friend has been tremendous!  He has let me use his garage to store all of my belongings until I can get into my new apartment.  He has let me use his bed while I wait.  And he has helped me move everything over in the last couple of days and will be helping me move it all into my apartment tomorrow.  I have to say he’s a good friend.  And he’s honest.  And blunt.

This is the moving craziness:

Last week my landlady said, “hey we have to be out by the 1st”.  I thought, holy crap that’s next weekend.  Then she says, “I need you to have all of your stuff out by Thursday night.”  WHAT?!  I quickly found a new apartment to live in and then had to figure out what to do with my things from Thursday to Saturday.  I have to say, my friend is amazing.  He didn’t have to let me invade his space and home.  I didn’t even ask. He volunteered.

As for my ex? He has a date tomorrow night and can’t help.  What-the-fuck-ever.  I need to let him go.  I need to move on.  This moving craziness needs to extend to my heart.  As I move, move on.  Just let it all go.  Try, try, try…

Heartbreak is a terrible thing.

Renting BS and Period Tracker.

I found out this morning that my landlady is moving in with her boyfriend.  I rent the lower level of the townhouse.  I don’t have a bedroom or full bath.  I just have a space and a half bath.  Rent is cheap which is why I’m here.  She’s talked about the possibility of moving in with her bf, but has never officially told me that plans have been set and a move is happening.  She still hasn’t.  But, her ex-husband is here for the holidays and they were yelling at each other (per usual) and she said, “I need this place in showing condition for renters!”  So, she’s apparently moving.  What does that mean for me?  Do I have to move, too?  Is she subletting and making my living here a stipulation of the new renters?  I’m a bit pissed about the situation.  If I need to move, she needs to f*cking tell me.  I dread the thought of moving.

On another note, I have a period tracker (there’s an app for that).  According to said app my cycle averages 32 days.  The “normal” average is 28 days.  I guess I should be thankful that my periods are more spread out than the average woman’s.  I’ve been keeping track of my menses for some time but have never seen a true pattern.  And really, there isn’t a pattern.  My cycle has ranged from 25 to 35 days since April.  If I were to plot my number on a bell curve, I would see my averages… According to my calculations, my mean is 30.5, which rounds up to 31 days per cycle.  My median is 30.5, which again rounds up to 31 days per cycle.  And then my mode is 30 (2 of my cycles lasted 30 days).  Not sure how the app figures my average cycle is 32 days.  Whatever.  Regardless of my cycle average, periods freaking suck.

Actionable Love.

A couple of weeks ago I said, “I love you” just before getting off the phone with my boyfriend.  I didn’t mean to, really.  Isn’t that a problem?  Saying “I love you” should never be a mistake.  As humans we tend to get into a routine.  Some are good, some are bad, and some are neither.  When I said “I love you” to him, I did mean that I do love him, but I said the words out of habit and routine, not because I was feeling especially affectionate towards him at that time.  Of course the expression of love shouldn’t be limited to only when we’re happy.  Love is not merely a feeling.  Love is a verb, something that is actionable.  When I do laundry and dishes and vacuum and take the dog out every morning, that’s part of love.  That is me showing him that his environment is important to me.  When I let him sleep longer than I really think necessary, that is me showing him that his mental and physical well being is important to me.  When I drive him to work each morning and pick him up each evening (which adds an hour to my commute each way) because his car is a piece of crap, that is me showing him that I care about his financial stability.  All of these things I do for my boyfriend are extensions of the love I feel for him.

And in one month I will be moving out.  Why? Because his sister is coming back with her two kids and he needs to help her out for a few months while she gets on her feet.  And because we can’t “work on our shit” while we live together.  Those are his words.  This is why I think I’m moving out: He needs time/space to figure his shit out.  **sigh** While my friends around me continue to pop out babies and get married, I will move out.  I’m not sure how long I should give him to figure said shit out.  The only reason I’ve agreed to this cockamamie idea is because I love him and want to show him through this action that I support him and his need to do whatever it is he’s doing.  But, there’s definitely going to have to be some sort of time limit.  I can’t wait forever…  And that thought makes me very sad…