Dad did me the favor of taking a nap early enough that I was able to do what I told Carrie I would do in a text to her this morning and get over to her house by early afternoon. The most hair-raising bit was getting my stuff out to my car. The front door was squeaking, you see. I decided it was better for Dad to have to contend with a few flies than for me to have to contend with a big fight if he got up in the midst of my moving-out, and our usual practice with groceries had been to leave the door open until we’d gotten them all inside, so that’s what I did this time too. It helped that once I had the things out the door that screamed OBVIOUSLY MOVING OUT, what I had left was entirely reasonable: the trash bag I was taking out last thing. No problem. I left the note in the previous post on my bed with his housekey and mail key, and I beat feet.
Carrie had advised me that she was visiting her mother but that “you know what to do” — I’ve had a standing invitation to go over to her place whenever I need the internet, which meant using her hidden front door key to get in. She showed me where it was. I had maybe taken her up on it once ever because I feel weird going into people’s houses when they’re not home, but this was a special case. Turned out I didn’t need to unlock anything. Stanford was home and the door was open. He was a little surprised to see me but I explained the situation and then he seemed totally cool about it. I know for a fact he bitches about people behind their backs (I’ve seen/heard him at it) so I am not taking that at face value, but I also don’t plan on being here long enough for it to matter, so I played along.
Got the rest of my parcels in. Made sure everything I needed to donate was in the car. Set up the car paperwork left out where I will see it tomorrow when I go sell the car so that I don’t leave it behind, because that is exactly what I would fucking do and furthermore, I wouldn’t realize it until I’d passed Scott or something. Oh my fucking god.
Nasty storm after I got settled in — it was like it was just waiting for me to get here. Darkened sky, lots of thunder and drama and nonsense, rain blowing HORIZONTALLY and at one point we could not see the trees across the road. Got a little hail too.
Found a page on Greyhound’s site listing the size limits of carryon and checked luggage; found that Matt’s backpack is too large and nothing will make it not too large. Earmarked it to go to Goodwill in the morning. Mixed feelings about that. It’s a good backpack. It did come from Asshole, though. Probably better off rid.
Not sure if Stanford and Carrie are still sleeping in different rooms, meaning him down on my end, so am not showering tonight though, fuck, I fucking need it. This humidity has been fucking killing me; I’m not surprised it led to an almost literal shitstorm. But I mentioned Carrie’s central A/C, I think? It’s nice and comfy in here.
And there is a body pillow on the bed! I will wrap it in my Sophie blanket. That’ll be nice.