I'm working on about 2 hours of sleep.
After 6 weeks living without a place to call home we finally moved into our new place last night. Now, it’s still a fucking zoo filled with boxes and cushion-less couches, and we had to make pillows out of towels last night, but we have a place to call our own. I’m going to spare you all the details. Let’s just say it was a pretty bizarre 6 weeks. Perhaps the craziest thing was how bad I slept last night. As I’m walking home from work, that’s to my NEW home mind you, I spoke with my dad on the phone.
“You’ll sleep so well tonight. You’re finally in your own bed,” he told me. I couldn’t wait. It was long over due.
I tossed and turned. Patch growled whenever he heard an unfamiliar sound. A car would drive by outside and wake me up. I wasn’t accustomed to the amount of light in the room. Or the temperature of the room. And the towel pillow kept making my face itch. It was awful.
But you know what? I was home. Finally. And Patch took such a massive shit this morning that I knew he felt it too.
That’s all I got.
Final note: Fuck you Jericho. We talked about going to that party for the last 4 years.
III
1 comment:
It took me about three weeks to get used to sleeping in our new place. I feel you, dog.
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