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.