I need to be out by Midnight 3/2, tomorrow as of this writing. Below is a different take on me “I need crash space!” plea. The stuff between the two horizontal lines.
My therapist has bumped the gap between my appts from monthly to about every two weeks. Primarily because of the eviction thing, losing one of my cats, struggling with life in general. According to her and a few others who have apparently seen others in a similar situation, I’m handling it pretty well. I don’t feel like I am, but in a way, I guess I try to be more like Spock with most of it and then let the emotions loose on occasion.
I mentioned to her today that I’ve been using the term “crash space” and she suggested wording it differently. So, here’s my alternate version:
My life has come to a crossroads in a rather sudden fashion. I have been uprooted from an apartment I thought I’d have at least another 6 months in, but that wasn’t meant to be. In a way, the forced letting go of this apartment I’ve called home for over 7 years is a way for the Universe to shake me up, pull the rug out from under my feet…
Push me in the direction I am meant to go.
I just wish I could see the path chosen. Much like the Void I mentioned yesterday, the path ahead of me is hidden. I’d like to say I know where I’m going and what I’ll be doing, but I can’t say that. What I can say is this: I am in need of a small amount of space where I can sort things out and focus on what I need to focus on: healing, finishing grad school, and finding work. It’s me, my goofy senior cat Portia, some of my clothes, a couple of cheapie laptops, and some of my food. All I need is a few weeks or so to recuperate from the recent stress, catch up on school work, and find a job. Then save up some of it (once I get work, I can pay you a meager sum, but really need to save up for getting into a new place of my own), and head back out into the world solo. Portia isn’t too keen on dogs. I love them, but she doesn’t. I can help cook and a few other things, but my back makes most cleaning a challenge (I try to plow through it as I can).
About me: non-tradition grad student working on a remote program with a school in Kansas in Library/Archives. I’m also a writer and photographer, as well as a number of other hobbies and passions. I volunteer at the Architectural Heritage Center processing the slides of the founders of the Center. I’ve been sick, partly due to the stress, so I’ve been away for a while. I’m fairly quiet, as is my cat.
About Portia: She does do her “zoomies” so she sounds like a buffalo racing around, but overall she isn’t a loud cat. She squeaks and is fluffy. She’s roughly 11 or 12. She’s adorable (and knows it), hates dogs, is addicted to Feline Greenies, is about 13 pounds, and is a dilute Tortie. She also loves being underfoot.
I think that’s it. I’ll likely need help transporting myself, Portia and stuff I’m bringing with. I’ll try to limit my clothes to one rolling duffel, but I also have a container of other things… and then Portia’s carrier on the frame of an old pet stroller… and then food. I can try to get most of the stuff into the ‘granny cart’ … no guarantees, though.