I have to see Rob today. I assumed that we were “done” after I hired a different realtor and our recent blow up over that. But I had to pick up something of mine he had.
I didn’t hire him because of the intimacies I enjoy when we’re not
fighting; my affection creates a power imbalance. I kind of thought hiring
Dwayne and moving would be a cowardly way for me to break up with him.
I’m nervous about heading over to his place, nervous about not
selling my place and, of course, in PTSD shock being outdoors so it’s a day for
prophylactic medication. When we get along, it’s so incredibly
great.
My sense is that the packing, moving and acquisition of new
furniture (I’m moving I hope from a
700 square foot condo to a 2,400 square-foot home) will be easier to endure
than the anxiety of buying and selling. The packing, moving and buying is all
in my own control.
Dwight is going to help me move the things I want to move myself and
I’ll hire movers for the big stuff. I’m giving away my aquarium. I hate to do
it but water is scarce on the island and so it’s best — it consumes fifteen
gallons a week.
And I don’t think I want a dog until next summer. Too much change
too fast is a recipe for disaster I suspect, so Leon and I will adjust to life
on the island on our own for a while — with the wild birds.
Dwayne believes I’ll have an offer to accept Monday night. I wish I
could believe that. However: If he’s right it means that on Tuesday, after Dr.
Shoja, I can walk home past the bird store and get more birdseed to celebrate
the sale.
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