Velcro

Much real progress, head start on the cleaning, extreme packing. Well, no, not quite that, say - hefty packing. Down to camping mode, although I will dismantle the bed frame tomorrow morning. No need to sleep two nights on the floor when one will do. Although our futon is perfectly acceptable that way. Acceptable, anyway.

Dealing with my exhaustion and stressed irritability, snapping (not badly) at D. Resolving not to do that again. We've ordered Chinese as amelioration. D's idea, and he has good ideas.

When we moved from our traveler nurse provided housing to our first rented apartment in Boston, we had movers shift the stuff. I had to work that day, and D was there for them. When I got home, I ran the roomba and cleaned, he showed up with meatball sandwiches from Uptown Cafe (best ever.) We ate and were cheerful. Then I opened the front closet door. It was full of boxes. I rather lost my shit, blaming D for not checking, pissed off and not containing it at all well. Even told him not to apologize to me but to Moby for the delay and stressing him out. Downright mean.

Movers long gone, with other appointments. We wound up making several trips with a van taxi - the driver was very helpful. Finally took Moby by the train, me still seething It was all a thorough mess, and my behavior so unkind. Unfair as well, D had not packed that closet, and there was no malice - the only justification for anger (although still not a helpful response.) To this day, still a regret for me. A pain to remember, like" that fire is hot, don't touch." I wasn't that bad today, but I dipped my toe in those waters, and knew immediately, recoiled from myself.

Moby has been a velcro cat the last few days, while I've packed. Quite underfoot. I do tell him he always have a home with us, but he relies on proof, as do I. He is going to love having room to run around, a larger territory, but the change as it happens - not so much. He will be walked over in the bag. Sometime on Saturday.