October 21 - Toxicity

I've been trying really hard while I've been in New York to stay positive. I would love it if people leave interactions with me thinking, "She's a nice person." And so many of the things that were making me an inherently angry person in Chicago are no longer part of my life, so it honestly hasn't been too much of a struggle to stay positive and optimistic. Let's be honest - my first seven weeks here have been pretty darn amazing.

But then I get the response from the moving company to my Better Business Bureau complaint and it just pisses me off. I'm not going to go into too much detail here - I'll post the facts somewhere else later - but suffice it to say, I have very little faith in the humanity of that moving company. They have responded completely distastefully at every opportunity and have refused to take any sort of responsibility for the debacle that was my move to New York. I find myself wondering, though, if it is worth it to continue spewing my negative energy and my negative feelings at them through this medium. I do still need to work on the full factual account (with no commentary) of the whole process which will go up somewhere, but do I need to keep responding to the brick wall they have set up around themselves in regard to the BBB complaint?

I am taking some solace in the knowledge that my friends and family know how terrible the experience was, and that the whole thing is over. I just don't know how much time I want to spend fighting those who will not so much as offer up an apology for any of it (for their representatives not letting me finish speaking on the phone, for breaking my stuff, for delaying my shipment, for being rude) when there is so much in my life to be happy about right now. Which I'll tell you about later.

Because honestly, I have a lot to be happy about right now. And I'm kind of enjoying learning what being happy feels like.

September 19 - Update

My things were delivered at 9:06pm last night. No discount given, no empathy shown. One leg of my dresser was damaged, and at least three boxes had holes in them where they shouldn't have had holes. The things I transported in a Space Bag (comforter, pillows, etc) arrived in a torn Space Bag, meaning the vacuum seal was broken and who knows what could have gotten in there. I have not unpacked everything yet, but in one box labeled "Fragile - Glassware & Dishes," I found one broken plate, one broken martini glass, and one broken teapot. Fortunately it was not my TARDIS teapot. But still. Three broken items in the box marked "glassware."

All in all, the movers I paid a lot of money to screwed up at every step of this moving process, from being late to being discourteous, to breaking/mishandling my stuff. If I could give them a negative star rating online, I would. And I will be telling the full story online in the weeks to come. 

But for right now, I'm on my way to see my mom and the rest of my extended family at a wedding. I have stories to tell them and hugs to give them. And when I come back to New York on Sunday, I will be able to slide into a bed with clean sheets on it. An actual bed. And I'll be able to get dressed from a dresser in the morning instead of digging through a suitcase. It feels like my New York life can start now, for real. 

Which is a good thing, because I have a lot lined up for the next three months already. 

September 18 - Time

Time is relative. It is a man-made construct that allows us to keep track of things and to plan for the future. Because we, as humans, are terrified of the unknown and of being forgotten. But if we have a way to keep track of when things happened, we can allay the fear of being forgotten. And if we have a way to plan events to come, we can allay the fear of the unknown. So we invented time. This time, with seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years. All rather arbitrary groupings of time passage, but they are the ones we have adopted to help us make our lives and the lives of those around us run smoothly. 

Side note: because these units of time are specific to this planet, it amuses me when science fiction writers apply things like "age" to characters traveling through space and time. Ended was eleven when he did his thing, but he was so far from Earth, how could he tell? The Doctor is now supposedly over 2000 years old. What sort of year? Gallifreyan years? Earth years? Why would a Gallifreyan measure his age in Earth years? And with all of the bouncing through time and space, is he keeping a special calendar to track how many days (of how many varying lengths) he has spent in all of these various places so he can adjust for different units of time measurement to figure out how old he is in Gallifreyan (or Earth) years? Seems like an awful lot of hassle. But anyway. That wasn't the point of this post. 

We have units of time measurement to make things easier - so you know when the train is going to show up, so you know approximately when to plant the corn, so you know when it is appropriate to start hating the blind date who stood you up. 

The movers I have been fighting with seem to operate on a wholly different time schedule than the rest of the world. My stuff was supposed to be delivered by September 14. It isn't here yet. It was supposed to arrive between 6 and 8 pm today. The driver called at 5:13pm to make sure I was home. I wasn't - I was on the subway on my way home and there was no cell service. So, figuring they had plenty of time, they went to do another job first. I called them back at 5:53pm when I was off the train and got notification someone had called. No answer. They called at 6:03pm to tell me they were doing the other job and would call me in an hour. They just called at 7:34pm to say they are finishing up and are 15 miles away, so they hope to be here in about half an hour. I'll be surprised if they show up before midnight. 

I understand that things change and times need to be adjusted for things outside of our control. But I also know that some people have no concept of time as it exists in this culture. It is my wish to not have to deal with that sort ever again when it comes to paying someone for professional services. 

It is also my wish that my stuff shows up today and is not damaged or broken. 

September 15 - Theatre

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Theatre cures everything. 

Today was my first day at work and it was a first day of work. Making sure I had access to all of the things I'll need, trying to balance asking questions with not interrupting other people while they are busy, trying to figure out when it is good to interject and when it is best to shut up, trying lots of things, failures outnumbering successes. And I was cast in another show today. Not in the role I was expecting, though, and I'll admit there were conflicting thoughts of do I want to put in that much effort versus this could be a gateway opportunity that I would be stupid to pass up, and I reminded myself that I am not a small actor so I took the part and will play it to the best of my ability. And the movers still don't know what is going on with my shipment. The driver may or may not still be sick, the other crew coming back to Chicago may or may not arrive this week, and they may or may not be able to turn around and head right back out with my stuff. So my things may or may not be showing up on Thursday, just in time for me to pile boxes into my room and go to Chicago for the weekend. And I'll tell ya, by the time I left work, I felt like I could really go for a bit of a cry. Just an "I'm exhausted and need these tears to wash away the tired" kind of cry. But I had a callback audition to go to. Which means three callbacks from the three auditions I went to on Saturday. 

Even sitting in the waiting room for the callback, I found myself wishing I was elsewhere. But as soon as I got in the room in front of the director...I was me again. Full of energy, full of ideas, willing to try things and play. I was supposed to read three scenes, but one of the other actresses had to leave early, so I ended up reading five or six and I loved it. Any day wherein I get to act is a good day. So bring it on. Be it audition after audition or callback after callback or background role after background role, I am the luckiest woman in the world every time I set foot onto a stage. Because this is what I love to do. In whatever capacity, in whatever volume, in whatever venue. I love to act. Any day I get to act is a good day. 

That's not to say I am not still exhausted. And wishing I had my futon to sleep on instead of an air mattress. But I got to act today, and the director enjoyed my work. Today was a good day. 

September 12 - My Response to Golan's Moving

This is the response I sent to Golan's Moving and Storage this morning, following four days of headaches trying to figure out when my stuff will be delivered. Please share this with as many people as you can, especially those considering a long distance move.

I am choosing to email you instead of calling in part so that I have a written record of everything that has transpired in my dealings with Golan's and in part so that I can try to remain calm and rational.

I would like to review my dealings with Golan's from start to current date:

• On August 8, I requested an estimate through your website. After several missed phone calls (despite asking for the quote to be emailed to me), I was finally able to get an estimate from Scott on August 12.
• Golan's was not the least expensive (nor best reviewed) option, but Golan's was able to fit the dates of my move. In an email from Scott Berman on August 13, when I asked, "If I were to use Golan's, can you guarantee pick-up on August 30 or 31, with delivery between September 1-14," Scott replied "That is correct."
• Based on Scott's guarantee of being able to pick-up and deliver when I needed a moving company to do so, I booked the move with Golan's. I provided a $200 deposit and was told to prepare a $1000 cashier's check to be given to the driver when my items were picked up. I asked for an email confirmation of that information, which I did not get. I did get an emailed estimation of services, but nothing with the detailed dollar amounts as they applied to my move.
• On August 28, I received a phone call saying that the movers would be at my apartment in Chicago to pick-up my items between 8-9am on August 30.
• On August 30, at 8:45am, I received a phone call from the driver saying he was just leaving and would be at my apartment in approximately half an hour.
• On August 30, at approximately 9:30am, the movers showed up to pick up my goods. Upon entering my apartment, one of them remarked, "We're moving all of this?" He was apparently told it would just be a couple of boxes - he was not notified that it was a one-bedroom apartment move, including furniture. As the one man set to work itemizing my belongings, the other man began carrying things out, complaining with every trip about how heavy things were. This second man also proceeded to lecture me on proper packing techniques so as to avoid heavy boxes. The man doing the itemizing said they would prefer a larger quantity of lighter boxes to a smaller quantity of heavier boxes because it would make their job easier.
• On August 30, after approximately two hours of moving my items (and complaining about moving my items), the men left and told me I would receive an email on Tuesday, September 2 detailing the remaining amount owed.
• On Tuesday, September 2, I received an email stating that my shipment was 400 pounds more than estimated, so the remaining amount due would not be $893, but instead $1443.81. This same email said that Golan's would notify me 48-72 hours before delivery. I prepared a cashier's check in the stated amount so that I would be ready when Golan's showed up.
• Having heard nothing further from Golan's on September 8, which was getting close to the 48-72 hour advance notification deadline to ensure delivery on September 14, I sent an email inquiring about the delivery date of my shipment.
• On September 9, I received an email from you, Renata, informing me that that your truck was broken and my shipment would not be delivered until sometime after September 14.
• On September 9, I replied stating that a delivery date after September 14 was unacceptable, as to delay this shipment which Scott had guaranteed would be delivered by September 14, would cause a significant inconvenience to me including lost wages and lost future earning potential.
• On September 10, I called to once again state my position, that I expected Golan's to meet it's guaranteed delivery date and ask what would be done to rectify the situation. Renata, you told me you would have to speak to your manager and would get back to me in a couple of hours.
• On September 10, five hours later, I received a call from your manager. He was rude, condescending, and patronizing as he tried to hold Golan's blameless the situation, and saying that Golan's would let me know as soon as possible IF my shipment was going to be delayed. I informed him that I had already been notified that my shipment would be delayed, and that said notification followed my inquiry, meaning Golan's did was not proactive in keeping me informed, but rather reactive to the situation. I asked for some assurance that the situation was being worked on, which he was unable to provide. Instead, in a snotty tone he told me he could call me every hour if I wanted to tell me he had nothing new to say, he could call me on Thursday, September 11 to tell me he had nothing new to say, or he could wait until Friday to call and maybe have some new information then. I asked him to call me on Thursday, September 11, just for my own piece of mind to know that the situation was being worked on, not forgotten. When I spoke about the inconvenience of having to take time away from a brand new job to await the delivery of my goods, the manager replied that Golan's would work around my schedule, including delivering at 9pm on a weeknight if necessary.
• On September 11, I heard nothing from Golan's. I sent an email on the evening of September 11 to inform Golan's of this fact.
• On September 12 at approximately 9:40am, I received a call from you, Renata, in response to the email I sent the evening before. You informed me that my goods would be delivered on Sunday afternoon, September 14. I informed you that Sunday afternoon was inconvenient - information also sent to you in a previous email. You proceeded to tell me that you have no control over when the delivery would show up. I remarked that your manager had said you could work around my schedule, given the hassle, delays, and failures on the part of Golan's in just about every step of the process thus far. You replied that delivery on Sunday fit within the agreed upon terms. You are right, it does. By the narrowest of margins. Please forgive me if I fail to give Golan's a pat on the back at this point for finally doing what they promised to do.
• In this same phone call, you informed me that because of the size of the street on which I live, there will be an additional charge of $350 (a $100 discount from the regular price) for a smaller shuttle truck to be employed. In frustration, I said I would call you back later and hung up on you. I have chosen to email a response instead.

Working with Golan's has been a headache from start to finish. I find it ironic that Golan's tag line is, "Who said moving isn't easy?" as this has been the worst and most complicated moving experience of my life. I find it ludicrous that Golan's solution after all of the emails and phone calls I have had to make to get Golan's to do what they guaranteed they could do despite Golan's best efforts to avoid doing so, is to charge me an additional $350, bringing the grand total for my move to $2993, after an initial estimate of $2126. The $100 discount for the shuttle, while it shows a modicum of humanity on the part of the otherwise completely distasteful manager to whom I spoke, is laughable at this point.

However, I want my belongings. Golan's is legally not allowed to hold them hostage, which means delivery has to happen. If paying exorbitant fees and disregarding Golan's offer to "work around my schedule" is what it will take for me to never have to deal with Golan's again, so be it. Deliver my goods on Sunday. Please give your drivers a heads up that they will not be getting a tip.

September 10 - Update

The moving saga continues.

I called the movers this morning to again express my dissatisfaction with their delayed announcement that my shipment would be delayed, and spoke with a woman who, while not particularly helpful, was at least polite. She told me she would have to speak to her manager and would get back to me in a couple of hours.

Five hours later, a man called who I am guessing is her manager. He said they would let me know as soon as possible if my shipment was going to be late. I told him I had already been informed that it would be late and asked for clarification as to whether or not it would be and what sort of restitution they were prepared to offer for the inconvenience if it is. I then went on to explain (even though he tried to interrupt me several times) exactly how much of an inconvenience a late delivery is in terms of lost wages and lost future earning potential if I have to take time away from a brand new job to wait for the movers to show up and then the staffing firm that placed me in this position (my first position with this staffing firm) decides I am unreliable and doesn't want to place me again. I also explained to the man on the phone that letting me know four days before the deadline date, and only after I had inquired, does not constitute "letting me know as soon as possible" if there would be a problem. They have thus far been reactive, not proactive. I asked him to proactively fix this situation. And yes, by this point in the conversation, my voice was raised, in part because he kept trying to interrupt me, and in part because I am just really angry about the whole thing. To be clear - I did not shout. I raised my voice. There is a difference, of which I am acutely aware. I did not shout, but I did raise my voice.

The man on the phone decided to take the patronizing approach and spoke to me as if I was a petulant child. Which, even if I was acting as a petulant child with my raised voice and calls for them to either uphold their end of the bargain or offer some sort of restitution, is exactly the wrong way to treat an angry customer. Patronizing an angry customer does not calm the customer down, nor does it inspire rational discussion. And the man's patronizing responses that he could either call me tomorrow to tell me he has nothing new to say, or call me every hour to tell me he has nothing new to say, or wait until some undetermined time to call me to give me more information did little to calm me down or inspire rational discussion. I even asked for, at a minimum, some assurance from him that he would be proactively working to fix the situation, which he was not able to offer. In the end, I asked him to call me tomorrow whether or not he has new information because at this point, I want to be the squeaky wheel that keeps everyone up at night until it gets some grease. He was so condescending that yes, I choose to be the thorn in his side making his life more difficult until this gets sorted out.

I realize that this is very much a First World Problem kind of thing. I know that. I apologize for the distastefulness of complaining about this as if it was the end of the world. I know it isn't.

But I start a new job on Monday. I'd like to have access to all of my office appropriate clothing, including tights or pantyhose or other shoes in case it is colder outside on Monday and I want to dress a little warmer than the clothing I have with me will allow. Not to mention the fact that as kind as it was of my friends to let me use their air mattress, sleeping long-term on an air mattress is annoying. It makes a lot of noise and isn't conveniently used as a piece of furniture other than a sleeping spot, whereas a bed can also be used for sitting on and storing things under. I would really like to get dressed in the morning by pulling clothes out of a drawer instead of a suitcase. I would like to be able to do laundry and put things away when I'm done instead of just putting them back in the suitcase. I would like my things to arrive here at a time when I have some time to actually unpack and go through them, to play Tetris with the boxes fitting them into my room, so they don't have to sit in the living room, inconveniencing my roommates for a couple of weeks while I try to squeeze unpacking time in between work and class and going home for the weekend. And perhaps most of all, I would like to start feeling like I actually live in New York instead of like I'm on vacation here. Living out of a suitcase, eating food that I can grab on the go because my cooking utensils aren't here yet, sleeping on an air mattress on the floor, they all make me feel like my time here is very temporary. In one way, it is - I will not live in this apartment forever. But I do plan on being in New York for a couple of years at least and it is hard to feel like that is an actual thing until my things are here with me. Until I can set up my life. Until I can set up my home.

I don't think moving companies get that. I know the guy I talked to on the phone this afternoon did not get that. If he understood the feeling of being in limbo, waiting for weeks for your belongings to show up so you can build a new home, he would not have been as snotty as he was on the phone, regardless of how angry I was. And I know I'll be fine when my stuff gets here. I would just really like to put an end date on this period of limbo in which I feel I've been living for not only the time I've been in New York, but the last month or so in Chicago, too, when my life was all about packing and selling things and giving things away. I want to be done with the logistics of moving so I can move on to bigger and better things.

Please let my stuff magically show up tomorrow. Please?

September 9 - Annoyance

I was going to write a good fun happy post today about fun new developments, but then the movers emailed to say their truck broke and my stuff won't be here until next week. 

A) How is a moving company dependent on only one truck? Even one truck dedicated to certain shipping routes? How do they not have a backup truck?

B) Why did it take them TEN DAYS to figure out the truck was broken?

C) Why does it take over two weeks to bring my things 900 miles? I drove it in two days. I've done it in one before. Even if they just drove 100 miles per day, they should have been here by now. Seriously, why do they need so much time and why did they wait until the last minute to find out the truck is broken?

In all honesty, worse things have happened in the world and I have no right to complain about the fact that this company to which I am paying a rather large sum of money (co-funded by my mom and her partner) is failing to uphold their end of the bargain and perform their services within the timeframe they laid out. But I just got a temporary office job and we chose Monday as the start date so I wouldn't have to miss a day right at the beginning of my time there to sit and wait for movers to show up. 

Shame on you, movers. I am very disappointed. And I would very much like to say that for every day you are late in making my delivery, I am deducting $100 from your fee. 

(I know it won't really work that way, but I would like it to.)

September 1 - Brooklyn

I made it! I'm in Brooklyn, in my new apartment!

It's actually a really nice place. I was a little afraid when I walked in of how small my room is and how full the rest of the apartment looks, but I think it will all actually work out okay. Worst case scenario, I get a storage space and put some things in it until I have more room of my own.

The best part is, I'm comfortable here already. I'm walking that line between not wanting to disturb what my roommates have already established and realizing that I'm paying rent, too, and have just as much of a right to have my things in the bathroom as anyone else does. In the end, all will be well. And if it is not well, it is not the end. Or something like that.

I'm happy. I'm happy to be here. Now if only I could get Owen to come out from behind the couch...

August 31 - Pittsburgh

Owen is drinking water. This brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.

Today was quite possibly the most difficult day I've ever had. Saying goodbye to my Mom... I know millions of people have moved away from home, and thousands of them have left just for the sake of leaving, not because of a bad situation at home or anything like that. And I can't help but wonder if it is/was/has been as hard for them as it was for me. Yes, I was unhappy in my job, but I have such a close relationship with my mom, I have an amazing group of friends, I was living in a gorgeous apartment with lots of space in a very safe neighborhood, and Chicago is one of the most wonderful cities on the planet. Chicago has WXRT for crying out loud. There is no other radio station in the country like WXRT - where am I going to find my new music now? (The internet. I know.) I'm giving up a lot by moving to New York and as much potential lies ahead of me, it hurt to leave. Physically hurt. I left something great in the hopes I'll find something better. The outpouring of love and support and encouragement I have received from so many people is a little overwhelming - I think some of them think I am going to do better in New York than I do.

I found myself thinking of two major analogies when I left. I keep reading that Adrien Brody gave up everything when he was filming The Pianist - his apartment, his car, his girlfriend, his cell phone - so he would know what it felt like to lose everything. I still have a lot of stuff, but I did just give up an amazing apartment, my home, my job, my security, the ability to ask my friends out for a drink on a moment's notice, my cat's piece of mind, access to great hugs. I may not know what it feels like to lose everything, but I feel like I know what it feels like to lose a lot now. It is not fun.

And the other one I was thinking of a lot today was David Tennant's regeneration into Matt Smith. He got to say goodbye to his companions, and then went back to the TARDIS alone and said, "I don't want to go," before turning into someone different. The regeneration had to happen - there was no stopping it - and while Tennant loved his time on the show, he needed to move on and work on other projects. I spent this week saying goodbye to all of my companions, and while I know I need to give New York a shot, the first thing I thought of when I got up this morning was, "I don't want to go." I'm about to regenerate into something new - Kitty the New Yorker. Or at least, Kitty the Transplant from Chicago. And I can only hope that my regeneration is more of a Smith into Capaldi thing, or an Eccleston into Tennant thing, than a Tennant into Smith thing. I don't think I could handle three years of crap before something good starts to happen.

But then it was also killing me to have Owen in the car with me, being totally silent, not wanting treats when I offered them. As stressful as this is for me, it is a decision I have been thinking about for years, and I've been planning for it for months. To Owen...today he was put in his carrier and put into the car, where he never goes except when he is being taken to the vet. No warning, no say-so. He just has to come along for the ride. I was worried about how he would take it and it looked to be just about as awful as I had feared. But I think even more awful would have been leaving him behind. At least this way, he still has his person.

But me, being the dorky cat mom that I am, noticed that my guitar playing seems to calm him down. So I brought my guitar into the hotel room where we have stopped in Pittsburgh for the night and I played four or five songs for him. And then I moved his food bowl closer to him and he ate a few bites. And then I brought his water dish closer to him (he has yet to set foot out of his carrier), and he has been drinking water. Maybe too much, but I'm not going to quibble. I would rather have him eating and hydrating than not. His eyes look brighter, and he is facing the rest of the room now, instead of burying his nose in the far corner of the carrier. He is more animated and alert, reacting to the sounds of people in the hallway with curiosity and fear instead of just terror. He'll be fine. And if he can be fine with this, I will be fine with this, too.

Thank you, everyone, for the kind words and the beautiful send-offs. Thank you for your generosity and enthusiasm. Thank you for encouraging me to follow my dreams, and for not calling me crazy for doing so. I will do my best to not let you down.

Chicago, I love you and miss you. No matter where I live, I will be a Chicagoan. Always. And because I know you have my back, I can go off and do this thing I've wanted to try for a really long time. That is pretty amazing in and of itself, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

August 30 - Moving

The movers are here. They were, apparently, not told that there would be furniture involved. Granted, I underestimated the number of boxes, but when I requested a quote, I certainly included a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a bookshelf. Oh well. They are moving all of it anyway. 

It is weird to see all of my stuff get loaded onto a truck. I am very conscious of how much stuff I have, especially since they apparently we're not expecting this much. But they're being nice about it. Wrapping things up securely. I also feel a little bit bad that my eyes are still so puffy from crying all night last night. I really just want to shut my eyes at this point, but I need to be present while this is going on. 

I'm actually doing this. I'm actually moving to New York. I'll be there in three days' time. And then the real adventure begins. 

August 29 - Last

My last day of packing before the movers show up. It all needs to get done today, and hopefully in time for me to go out and say a final farewell to whichever of my friends decide to show up. It is because of these things that I woke up at about 6am in a panic. I'm tired of panic. 

On the up side, I got a little bit of sleep last night. Not a lot, but there were a couple of stretches between bouts of consciousness where I wasn't sure how much time had passed, so that's a good thing. I kind of miss sleeping. 

So yeah, today is not off to a fantastic start. But it will all get done. My mom is coming over to help later, and I can get more boxes if I need them, and it will all get done. That's really the only choice at this point. 

Wish me luck!

August 28 - Almost

I wish I had something more interesting to talk about, but I only have packing on the brain. My apartment looks like utter chaos as boxes are getting filled with the bigger pieces first and the little assorted leftover bits are scattered all over the place. I am almost at the point where I am going to stop trying to make any sense out of the packing and I'm just going to put everything in one box or another just so stuff is packed and ready to go. 

I am also waiting on movers to come get one last piece of furniture out of here that I am not taking with me. I feel like once they come and take care of that, I can take a car load of stuff to the Salvation Army or Goodwill or wherever. Which will help. When I have a better grasp of what is actually going with me and what is not, I might not feel quite so overwhelmed. 

The movers are coming early on Saturday morning. Then I can clean on Saturday afternoon and figure out how to pack the essentials into my car before I take off on Sunday. It feels very soon, yet very far away. 

I promise, I will have more interesting things to talk about again at some point. I just need to get through the next few days and then I'll be able to think about things other than playing Tetris with all of my stuff to get it half-way across the country. Just a couple more days. 

August 27 - Seven Years

Seven years ago today, I started working at my current job. Today is my last day here, which means I am having all of the feelings today.

Not only does leaving this job mean a change of career, a change of routine, a change of income level, but it also means I am that much closer to actually being in New York. No more "I'm not going to pack up my kitchen yet in case I need things." Pots and pans and utensils started going into boxes last night. Clothes will start getting divided into what is going in the car with me and what can go with the movers. I'll have to throw away all of the condiments in my fridge that won't travel, and should probably throw away all of my spices because even though they would travel, they're likely too old to be flavorful anymore and should be replaced anyway.

It is really happening. I'm really leaving. The movers are scheduled to come three days from now. I've booked myself a hotel room for Sunday night so I don't have to do the entire drive to NYC in one fell swoop. My first month's rent has been sent in. The gas company and electric company have been informed of my leaving, and the change of address form submitted to the post office. This is real. My plan to go live in New York for a little while before I die that I have been toying with for years is becoming a reality. This week. It's kind of crazy.

I feel lots of things today, as I say goodbye to the company that has kept me sheltered and fed for the past seven years. I am looking forward to a change of scenery and new challenges that await me elsewhere. But it is sad to take my pictures off of the wall, to pack up my tea, to know that I will never again drive this same route to work in the morning while listening to WXRT. They say it takes twenty-one days to form a habit. I've been at this for seven years. It's going to take some time to undo the habits.

Seven years invested. Seven years to the day.

Four days until I move and start all over again.

August 26 - Mourning

I find myself mourning a lot of things, little things, and my guess is that it is good for me to get the mourning out of my system now so that when I get to New York, I can start the next chapter of my life fresh. 

My bed left yesterday; I shall not look upon it's like again. My dining room table and chairs that I bought eight or nine years ago left today. I cleaned out my desk drawers at work today, and have been training my replacement. It's down to packing my kitchen, my clothes, and my toiletries, pretty much, and I'm good to go. I have a bunch of stuff to take to Goodwill or the Salvation Army, too. But I'm actually feeling like I'm in really good shape for someone who is moving in five days. Four days until the movers come, actually. 

But I didn't sleep last night. I was trying to sleep on my futon, which will be my bed in New York, and I don't think I lost consciousness for more than ten minutes at a stretch. I was missing my bed, in my bedroom. As was Owen - he didn't come sleep with me until nearly morning. And today, I was mourning the projects I won't do at work since I am leaving. Mourning taking down my pictures and removing my secret personal stash of tea from the second drawer. Mourning the routine that I've gotten used to over the last seven years, even though I was very unhappy with large portions of it. 

The thing about mourning, though, is that it needs to happen. Be it the loss of a loved one, a job, a relationship, or the comfort of a stable lifestyle, as circumstances in life change, I think it is important to take notice and mourn the loss of what you had. I'm not saying dwell in the past forever. I'm saying take stock of the event in retrospect, and figure out which memories and life lessons you want to hold onto and which ones you should let go of. 

I love Chicago. I have loved living in this apartment. I have loved having a steady income that has allowed me to save some money. I have loved so many of the people I have met along the way. These things, I will not forget. 

It is time to go adventuring. So I'm going to pack up my kitchen and my clothes and my remaining knick knacks and I'm going to go off on an adventure to see what new cities, apartments, jobs, and people I can fall in love with next. 

I hope I have enough boxes. 

August 25 - Bed

Someone's coming to pick up my bed today. 

August 24 - Crying

Crying has really gotten a bad reputation. People tend to equate it with weakness, which is where I think a lot of the whole "boys don't cry" thing comes from. If you're tough and strong, you can avoid crying. Or, if you really have to cry, you should do it alone, away from other people, because they won't know how to deal with your tears. 

Phooey, I say. Phooey on that. 

I cried at least three times yesterday, and another four or so times today. It has nothing to do with weakness and the people I've been with when I cried handled the situation perfectly - they just let me. I think there is actually a lot of strength involved in being able to be emotionally present and available and vulnerable enough to cry, and I know from personal experience that crying can be very therapeutic. If something hurts so much your eyes start leaking, it's probably best to let that out. If you keep it in, you've got something trapped inside you that hurts so bad it wants to make your eyes leak, but it has nowhere else to go, so just imagine what it does to your other organs. 

I like to have a good cry every now and again. Especially now. I'm leaving my hometown to move a thousand miles away from my family and closest friends to live with three strangers while I try to see if I can make my nearly impossible dreams come true. If that didn't hurt or didn't give me a moment's pause, I would be dead inside. And I've been dead inside, so it is a joyous thing to me that I feel so loved and supported and grateful that the thought of leaving makes my eyes leak. I am grateful that I love these people and they love me so much that leaving is hard. So if that makes me cry six times a day for the next week, then so be it. 

There is no shame in crying, and it is not a sign of weakness. It is part of being a person. I think if we all accepted that, we'd all be a little bit healthier in the long run. 

August 23 - One Week

I woke up promptly at six in the morning today for no reason other than my body was tired of the dream world it had created overnight. In the dream, I was saying goodbye to my home town, to the grocery store where I had my first job. The produce department where I had worked had taken a turn for the pathetic, but it was now run by a woman I went to college with (who, I'm pretty sure in the dream was supposed to be someone I had worked with at the grocery store), so I felt like I had to say nice and complimentary things even though I didn't believe them. No wonder I wanted to wake up. 

And I have spent the subsequent hour lying in my bed, wishing for more sleep, snuggling with my cat, and getting increasingly sadder as the phrase, "I don't want to go," swirls around in my head. The phrase is, of course, said in David Tennant's voice, from the first time he said it (not the repetition in the 50th anniversary special). Movers are coming to take my things to New York one week from today and the panic is setting in. For as prepared as I felt earlier in the week, I now feel like there isn't enough time and I'll never get it all done. I only get to sleep on this bed two more times and then it will be gone. This is my last actual weekend in Chicago, leading up to my last night swing dancing in Chicago, my last visits to my neighborhood haunts, and my last hugs from my friends and family for a while. Later today, I'll be going to my first and last Cubs game of the season. My last visit to Wrigley Field. And I'm sad. 

I am looking forward to New York. I think it will be a great experience. The hard part, though, is that I truly, truly love Chicago. Chicago is a great city and it has been wonderful to me. My friends are here. My family is here. My heart is here. If I didn't love it so much, leaving would be easier. But I do. So it isn't. 

Seven-fifteen in the morning, and it is already looking like an "I don't want to go" kind of day. I hope I'm able to enjoy the game and the time with friends and the Doctor Who premiere without crying too much. 

August 21 - Thoughts on Leaving

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."

Again with the Hamlet quotes. I wonder if they swirl around in my head so much because I've done the show twice or because they really are so apt for so many situations.

I think it is safe to say for a lot of people, that even the really bad things that have happened to them in their lives (divorce, loss of a job, etc.), that at the very least in retrospect, the event was not one hundred percent bad. Yes, it likely felt one hundred percent bad at the time, but often times, there is some good that comes from terrible things. Divorcing the wrong life partner frees one up to find the right life partner. Leaving one miserable job (by choice or not) allows one to find something more fulfilling to do with one's time. Even those who are the victim or theft or accidents or whatever can gain valuable knowledge later on, or a sense that they can survive their worst fears if they are able to look at the situation in a different light. I know when I was hit by a car while out walking, I felt almost invincible for a little while afterward. I was hit by a car while on foot and walked three miles home after the event. That's kind of a cool thing to be able to say. And now I know, if I see another car speeding at me about to hit me, I can once again use my stage combat training to take the impact in a way that will hopefully minimize any damage. Granted, I am not invincible. But traumatic events can give us tremendous personal strength in the long run.

This is also not to try to minimize some really horrible things that happen in the world, like the mess that is Ferguson right now, or the journalist who was beheaded a few days ago after being held hostage for a couple of years. These things are terrible, and for those people directly involved, I'm sure they would be just as happy going through the rest of their lives never having experienced them. I wish that for them, too.

What brought me to this today is that I am in the process of cleaning a lot of negative out of my life. I do not think it is a secret that there are certain elements of my life that have not been bringing me joy for some time. But as I find myself beginning the process of saying goodbye to the negativity, I find myself remembering the few bright spots that were also associated with those things and those places. There were some nice people. There were some great opportunities. I have some wonderful stories to tell because of these things. Recognizing these positive moments, buried under all of the negative, is making me sad today. Or if not sad, then very emotionally confused.

I have been getting more and more excited about my new adventure in New York in the past couple of days. As I think about myself leaving those ills I have in favor of flying to those I know not of, I am reminded that the ills will not seem quite so ill once I am removed from them by time and space. I may come to think of them as good. Because there is "nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." It's all about changing your perspective.

August 20 - Ten Days

Well, ten sleeps left in this apartment. Five days left of work. Eleven days until I'm on the road and an official resident of Brooklyn, New York. 

I feel oddly ready for it today. Yes, there are things that still need to be packed. Yes, there are things still to be sold. Yes, there are things to be donated and gifted away. Goodbyes still to be said. But I feel very prepared today. I feel like it will all get done and everything will go smoothly. Even if I allow myself a relatively quiet evening tonight. 

I submitted to a few auditions today, too. Listings are starting to show up for auditions that happen after I get to New York, so why not try to get a jump on filling in my calendar? And it sort of made me feel normal again, to be on the lookout for projects. 

Things are happening. Change is coming. And I am finally getting excited about it. I will be very sad to leave Chicago. Chicago is a brilliant, beautiful, vibrant city that will always be my home. It's hard to leave a place you love. But I am moving to another place I love to go adventuring for a while and see what happens. How exciting is that?

August 19 - Incremental

My bookshelf went away today. I sold it, so it went away via a method of which I approve, but yeah. As each little piece is taken out of my apartment, I feel like the move is getting closer (which it is) and that it is the sort of thing I will be able to handle (which it is).

And suddenly, my apartment starts to look emptier. Visible progress. I'm really doing this. Wish me luck!