I think, after two nights on my own, I can safely say- it fucks me up.
I guess I’ve gotten used to my big lug sleeping next to me, ’cause the last couple of nights have been pretty rough. No nightmares per se, but restless, lots of Kafka dreams. I left the TV on all night and that affected my dreams, too- I have a not-fully-concious urge to buy a Bedazzler.
Gonna spend some time packing up today; Jeff’s comin’ home at 6. It’s weird, I’ve got that “Christmas is coming” feeling about moving that I haven’t had since I was a kid, but now that we’re in the home stretch, I’m getting to the stage where I’m not so much looking forward to moving as I am looking forward to it being over and done with. Like when I was a kid, I wanted to rent Coming To America- I really wanted to see it. Today, I have no idea why this was the case, but yeah, I wanted to see it, and bad. I hustled my ass down to the corner video store every day for a week to rent it, but it was never in. After a week of this, still shuckin’ my buns down to the video store every day, I realized it wasn’t because I still wanted to see the movie, but because I was determined, after all the effort, I was gonna see the damn thing. It stopped being about the anticipation and started being about grim determination. I hope that doesn’t happen here- it would wreck the happy mood.
