In the past couple of months I've managed to all but moved in with the Modern Love Machine in his teeny one-bedroom apartment. Except all my stuff is at the house where I pay rent. If you've been following my blog for a very long time, you might know this has happened to me before (but on a slightly more long-distance basis) and that having my life in one spot and my stuff in another makes a homebody like myself absolutely insane.
Adding insult to injury is the fact that I OWN MY OWN HOUSE BUT HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO MOVE IN FOR THE PAST MONTH AND A HALF AND STILL HAVE TWO MORE WEEKS TO GO BEFORE I CAN. Sorry for the all caps, I just can't do the frustration of that situation justice without them. Really it's going to be more like three weeks before I can move in because I'm having to hit the road for a work assignment that I very much wanted no part of in the first place.
I started hanging out at the MLM's place daily when Lucydog and the roommate's cat started getting snippier with each other and we moved her in with the MLM and the Pennypup. That means the four of us spend all our free time at his apartment instead of spending any of it at the house where I pay rent.
Then the oven at the house where I pay rent stopped working (in the kitchen where there was once an indoor waterfall), so I basically gave up eating at the house where I pay rent. I just started grocery shopping with the MLM and leaving all my groceries at his place. That hasn't been a problem except I can't seem to make myself cook in anyone else's kitchen besides my own. I have to know where things are. I have to know what's on hand. I have to know how that saucepan with the warped bottom is going to perform over medium-high heat.
This isn't a gripe about hanging out with the MLM or his apartment (although the drive to and fro is a little longer than I care for). I love him so dearly and love spending the time with him and am forever grateful for him taking Lucydog and essentially me in (not to mention it's been good practice for the "as long as we both shall live" bit we're going to get ourselves into in exactly 13 months).
This is just me needing all of my stuff and my dog and my life in one place for my own sanity. And needing to be closer to work. And my clothes. And the YMCA. And a TV with cable. And a kitchen that has all my cookware and cookbooks. And an oven that works.