ephemera

When I left, there were so many questions unanswered.

I knew where I was going.  But was it going to work? I had spent nearly a month trying to figure out how best to move.  How best to exit, to extricate myself from my marriage, my life in Tennessee, where to go.

Eventually, I went with the easier method.  Pack up and store my things, figuring I could come back later.  It was cheaper to leave without, and easier, since I didn’t know if where I was going would be a temporary stop or a new home.  At the time, I thought I made the best choice.  It was hard to leave, hard to make that drive alone.  To have done so while carting my stuff and having to worry about undoing / unloading a truck or something into a local storage space was not how I could picture my first couple days out.

So I packed my trunk. Only the essentials. Some clothes, necessary paperwork, things I didn’t want to leave in storage, or couldn’t.  And then I drove away.

In all reality, I didn’t leave that much behind.  A bed, and everything that went with it;  a dresser belonging to my grandmother, the match of which stayed behind.  The rest is a mix of clothes, books, shoes & household odds and ends.

I apparently have a collection of things behind at the apartment as well.   Things I mistakenly left behind, things sorted out after I left, mail that belongs to me and so on.  As the apartment is about to be vacated, ahead of the leased schedule, my stuff begins to be an issue.  Am I coming to get it?  Should it be sent to me?  Is there a way to put it with the rest of my things in storage?

I’m frustrated.  Mostly at myself for not planning better, slightly at this new deadline for cropping up.  I should have, and expected, to get my stuff before the end of the year.  Now we’re nearing February, and there’s things I want, and need.  But I’ve discovered getting stuff is more complicated and more expensive than I could have anticipated.

I’m tired of being nagged about it too.

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