I spent the last 1.5 days cleaning my house so a potential renter could come by and view it. She just left.
While I fully realize that I am very lucky to have friends that will let me move in with them, the enormity of having to move out of this apartment is overwhelming me. Truly--I haven't packed anything. I haven't called to cancel services. I haven't put anything up for sale. I haven't secured storage facilities.
I'm just. . . what am I? I'm drowning. I don't even have the energy to properly whine about just how awful I feel.
Do you ever get the feeling that nothing is ever going to go your way again? And that maybe the universe is playing you for the terminal fool?
We all have been in that space at some time and may be there again when we least expect-- or even when we see it coming from far away. Easy to say when we are not actually in it at the moment, but it does get better. Hang in, babe.
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