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.