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I am exactly 8 days away from closing out this project that I have worked on since before Christmas.  

When it closes, I will get a check for five figures, buy an ipad to replace the one I’d borrowed from the Software Developer, schedule a hair appointment at Hot Blonde’s salon, and book a trip to see the LDF.

But, my real joy: starting an apartment hunt.

Since moving out of my place in February, I threw all of my stuff into storage, stayed with the Reporter, house-sat for the Software Developer, and then shacked up briefly with Recently Single Guy before moving down here to my best friend W’s house.  

I am now 9 miles out of downtown, which is not terribly far, except that I don’t have a car and I really don’t drive (which is why I don’t have a car).  To get downtown, I have to take two buses and the trip is an hour and 12 minutes at the shortest or I can take a $40 cab.  

I have had actual near meltdowns in downtown at the prospect of figuring out how to get home when I have accidentally missed a bus or miscommunicated with my date for the evening.  Before, I could walk home from downtown, which was far, but manageable.  I was never trapped. Now, I know if I make a mistake, I don’t have any options.

It’s a terrible situation: distance plus poverty.

So, I am getting an apartment, likely in the Reporter’s neighborhood, which is downtown, but just outside the core.  It’s where LP keeps a house (I can no longer say “lives” as he lives here and on the coast, some 1500 miles away).  It is incredibly chic and very quirky, and perfect for me.  It’s also expensive, but not as expensive as downtown core.

I cannot wait to have my own place again, to have some privacy, to have some solitude.  As I am dating, privacy is becoming more important.  I want to be able to hang out with my guy at my place without worrying about someone walking in.  I want to be able to not have to factor other people into my logistics.

I also miss my stuff.  My library, my mattress, my favorite pans, and knives.

In about 8 days, I can start planning again, and re-establish my life back on my terms.  It is possible, of course, that there will be delays.  There are nearly always delays.  But, soon, I will be back living my own life, less dependent upon other people, and emerging from this long impossible time, that I have somehow survived.

I am stronger than I was. 

I am smarter than I was.  

I am better than I was.

I am entering a new phase of my life healthier than I remember being in years.

Which could start as soon as 8 days from now . . .

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