Argh!

The rats are okay, but the landlord 'might have found someone else to take the room' - which I recieve as a message through someone else, but can't get a hold of them despite having left a number for them to get messages.

My landlord wants me out early, I think.

I know I have two weeks, but I feel panicky.

Starting to pack today. Need to get those trunks first.

Dear Goodness.

I am *tired*.

So much househunting. So much runaround. Nice day with mom and her friend with my head out of it at the boat show, but now I have to come home and pack and cleanup, ideally at least cleanup before tomorrow, because the house is being shown then. Then I need to be at Chris' for the Chinese New Year thing by 11, where there will be strangers who are really important to him who I've never met (and he's spent the evening at a club partying and dancing with them while I throw my past in the garbage at home, I feel pretty lonely and... dunno, substanceless).

I wanna hide under the bed. Actually I wanna hide in the bed, but all my stuff is on it.

I leave my rats at home alone too much.

I want a boat, a little twenty-seven footer or so, that's mine and no one else's. I can live there with the rats and let the water rock me. It's amazing how much you miss the rocking of the boat when you're lonely, if you've ever lived on the sea - at least for me. The sea was always something that loved me that was bigger than I was.

Why do I always end up with boyfriends who don't like coming over to my place? Well, I know that - because I always like to see them more often than they like to see me, and that's the way I get that.

This sounds so angsty, but I'm not angsty, exactly. Just lonely and need a good cry, ideally with someone hugging me, and everyone's busy. Going through my clothes to throw them out (well, donate, whatever) is oddly traumatising, or maybe that's just another move talking.