Almost everything is moved into the new place (like almost as in, I’ll go back for the coffee table when I have a couch to put it in front of, you know?).  I am pleased at how much got done, without incident. Got up early Sat. morning, moved a couple loads myself, went with Hawthorn and got a truck, friends came, loaded the truck and unloaded it. Rowan came and mostly distracted me while moving (he helped too, but I think he helped keep me on an even keel while we did the hard parts). Then there was some fuckery (resolved, don’t mess with me when my blood sugar is low) with the truck return, then Hawthorn and I stopped for lunch.  His choice of place for helping move and the place was packed (and on a good day this place is slow).  Cue Star Chickadee meltdown.  Hawthorn asked if I wanted to go somewhere else. I snapped that by the time we figured out where else, go there and ordered, we’d have food from the place we were already in.  While we were waiting for our food I leaned on him and just started crying.  I don’t do well on low blood sugar, it had been a long day already, plus the added emotionally charged crap of the move.  I called Violet and asked her to come over and help me get the rest of the stuff in our cars.  By the time she arrived I’d eaten and pretty much recovered (also taken the only Klonopin of the weekend).  We got the last bits packed up and out.  Calantha came over and unpacked and pushed things around for me until I hit the limit of needing to be quiet and alone.

Sunday I shifted boxes around a lot.  Made curtains for the front windows.  The landlord came and fixed and did lots of things for me (like new grounded outlets, rather than the scary old 1940s outlets).  I went back to the other house to pack up the kitchen stuff.  I managed to get there while Hawthorn was out and be nearly done and ready to leave just about the time he got back.  He tried to get me to take a few more things, saying he could just buy new ones, but I took pretty much everything I wanted and got out as quickly as I could.

I canceled my regularly scheduled therapy appt for today on the assumption I’d be way more interested in unpacking and being at my house, which was probably a good choice.  Especially if I can manage to get out of work early to go shift more boxes around. The real question is why did I even come to work? Why didn’t I just plan to take today off.  SIGH.

Oak moved back to this city yesterday.  He got in some time late yesterday afternoon.  Moving has kept me busy and tired enough not to have given this too much thought.  I assume I’ll see him some time this week.  Probably in some neutral location.  I guess I’ll worry about that then.  Although my vanity is making regret not having gotten my haircut last week, but I’m sure I can pull it together to look decent for this inevitable social event.  Still to that end, here is a poem for Oak:

Clenched Soul by Pablo Neruda

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statue

Happy kitchen is happy and my new kitchen is as happy as this one!