Choices

Coming back to work after an exhausting weekend of apartment hunting and giggling with Spliff is torturous. The fact that she is still lying flat on her back with Bloomie on her face is even more so.

We found a place that might well be the most perfect place ever. A townhouse with a fenced in yard, lots of storage, and a huge, tile-covered living room which would provide plenty of room for entertaining. I’m excited at the prospect of cooking out in the backyard and being able to let Ernge wander free. Quasi-free, anyway. More importantly, I am excited about living with Spliff again. Even though the running joke about us being 85 and still being roommates and sitting on a porch at dusk sipping iced tea (long island) with our cats is becoming more and more frighteningly likely, I feel like it will be good to be back “together” again. Because “we” like the beach. And “we” like backyards.

Either way, the application goes in today and hopefully, by the end of the week we will be one step closer to moving. (Take #78!)

Needless to say, the weekend was busy but fruitful and ended with a bang at 1:00 this morning with one of Eppernepperhart’s ever famous drunk dials. I expected to hear him sing an off-key rendition of a song by Young MC or Rob Base, but instead the conversation was more like trying to explain to a child why we couldn’t go to Disney World or why he had to go to school. Or why the sky is blue. But really just why I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to drive three hours to my house, pick me up at 4am and then head to Savannah. To me, the reasons that this was a bad idea were obvious (my having to come to work, the amount of alcohol he had obviously consumed, the 5 hours that it would take to orchestrate such a plan…). To him, these things were mere obstacles which could be worked around. And even though (and believe me when I say this), I would rather be “kicking it old school” with Eppernepperhart in Savannah than sitting at my desk writing about it, I can’t really justify getting up at 4am, calling in sick, and driving to Georgia. No matter how tempting the whole thing is.

So…I came to work.

I can’t help but think I made the wrong choice.