Moving Out

It's the last week of living at 10544 Santa Monica Blvd. On Saturday, my husband is going to take my cat and get in a UHaul and drive to Seattle. I'll move in with my friend down town. We're going to really try this thing out. 

On Sunday morning, Annie and I did a tarot reading over Facetime. Just one card and then some journaling and then sharing with each other what we thought. I pulled the Lovers card, which was apt (maybe too apt for revelation). Annie pulled the Emperor, which is also her birth card, and it was interesting to hear her reflections on it. Both she and Noelle (who I'm moving in with) aren't sure whether pursuing a partner is worth the hassle. They're both successful and largely at peace by themselves. I wonder if that's what I'll find going into this next season. I may or may not get the chance to find out. 

I moved my books and my fancy glassware into Noelle's apartment (some of my favorite possessions for sure). It felt good to get part of myself in there. Like I'm making it real. I'll be all the way in by the end of the week. It's terrifying and sad, but also the new adventure of it is like a siren song. I can't wait to see what happens. I think I might be able to make a lot out of it. Stretch my legs. Create my world and my story. I'll miss my husband at night, I think. I almost feel guilty for not missing him more -- but maybe I will. 

Oh, we had our apartment cooling party on Saturday. It was pretty good. I set up stations -- leave a message of advice for the newly separated, untie the knot, separate the sand. I was amused by it. Several people asked me if I found the idea on the internet. No, man. In my brain.