It's been a strange and awful weekend. My mental health is not great. At least the pod with all our stuff is gone. That took a week. Now we're having the house cleaned before we leave it for good. In one hour we can finally get into the air BNB that will be our home for the next three weeks. Need to inform my new boss and old boss, both whom are not helpful or nice, that I need to give away my projects or be allowed to work on them from Portland and I'm giving my two week notice, but really three weeks lucky them. It's nerve wracking. Maybe I should have kept my boss informed or something sooner. They all seem to share everything with each other. I'm just not used to doing that and besides, two of them are narcissists who are unpleasant to talk to and tell your business to. Maybe that's where my anxiety is coming from. I guess I had been really hoping and wishing that my offer and start date would just come sooner than later and then I could have leaned on that “oh sorry, they want me to start soon so goodbye!” But it's not forthcoming. Week after week nothing. So I end up feeling like okay I really have to give a date that we're going or it's going to keep dragging on. I assumed I wouldn't be here August 1st for my dad's wedding and kind of didn't want to be since my bitch of an aunt will be there and maybe other family. I just also don't want to be here anymore…feels like our lives are in this weird awful liminal space until we can go to Portland. Just bored here, feel like I can't relax at all or do anything I normally would this time of year like enjoy parks, or the outdoors, read at a park or crochet. My brain is all a stressed out muddle. Waiting waiting waiting. Waiting for the pod to be packed up with our stuff. Waiting for the cleaning to be done. Waiting to get into the Airbnb. You're currently a free subscriber to Letters from the Mire. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
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