tiny violins are playing somewhere

it's only the beginning of august but i already feel a bit stressed about finding someone to take over my current lease. i could be stuck in liminal roomie hell for months and months if someone doesn't scoop up my dear little apartment that i'm trying so hard to pimp out.

i pack my little bags every time i go to my guy's place and drop off new stuff...my place back up in the valley is starting to feel cold and empty. weird feeling that further frustrates the pooh out of me.

i hate moving. have i ever mentioned that before? i love the end state. i love when everything's unpacked and i have fresh newness to check out and appreciate BUT that doesn't happen until i've just about broken my back lugging furniture and obsessed beyond a reasonable amount over packing things strategically.

plus the whole knowing my rent will go down drastically (...some day) is making me drool and twitch simultaneously.

it's not a good look.


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