I'm HOME!
My last night in the city was spent in a hotel with Mal and her parents, tucked peacefully into those crisp sheets that all hotels seem to have. I really didn't sleep a wink at all: I had too much on my mind. I was scared to be changing my life so drastically, and thrilled to be getting what I wanted after all this time.
We packed up Mal on Saturday and loaded all of her things into the giant van her parents rented. It was a sad day as I watched all of Mal's belongings get carted into a van. Her couches were the hardest to watch go because over the months, I have developed a relationship that is far above and beyond any relationship that a sane and rational human being should have with couches.
I had to shed a tear or two when I left my roommate and my apartment: The place I sat all those months ago looking around me in horror at the madness that is my mess. I shed tears again when I hugged Mal good bye because she has become incredibly important to me over the last months. She is someone I can be sedate and lazy with, someone I've spent the last several months laughing hysterically late into the night with. If I said the words "Ass Tumble" to Mal, she would burst out into fits of laughter. If I said those words to anyone else, they would stare blankly and look confused. I suppose that's what good friendship is all about, the inside jokes and the things that only the two of you think are funny.
My mother and I spent the day wileding tools and unpacking my things into my nephew's old bedroom. At first I was concerned for him, worried that he would feel as though I came back and kicked him out of his space. When I brought him up to show him the changes, though, his only concern was that since we took his stuff out, why hadn't we thought to take his lamp out? MOVE THE DAMN LAMP, LADY!
The day was long and frustrating at several points, including that point at which my mother and I gave up all hope of transporting my bed to my new room and sat on the hall floor upstairs, glaring at the pieces of my beloved bed and wondering how badly things would turn out if we just got out the hack saw.
I suppose that there is not much to say upon being greeted by a slightly hung over 22 year old Sociology student with messy hair who is wielding large, sharp objects than "Oh, Lordy. She's home."
Yes. I am home.
Toonses
1 Comments:
You stole Brandon's room?! My goodness, what has the world come to. ;D
Did anyone demolish the wicked awesome wall that Adrian and I built? :D
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