Swim At Your Own Risk
2004-08-22, 9:56 p.m.
What a difference a week makes. Or not.
How to summarize the past week...kinda calm, kinda crazy, I suppose.
Living at Jess's is fine. There was an incident with her dog eating my favorite deck of tarot cards (figures, but I'm surprised she hasn't eaten more than that, really), but we agreed on a replacement issue for that. I ordered her a deck of her favorite kind of cards, and we've been pretty much obsesively doing readings every night, which have all been well, really stunning. (Let's just say that the reading I did on Le Deluge featured The Tower and The Devil RIGHT OFF.) I'm currently in the living room, but they're redoing the computer room and I'll probably end up in there sometime. I finally got onto their online network, yay, so I can catch up online at home more often. (Not to mention post disaster pictures.)
Kind of throws you off, not going "home." I stayed home Tuesday and vegged around in kind of a coma, and have been fairly zonked for most of work since, but my boss is sympathetic. I am skipping dance class because well, it'd be a pain to get to. Jess lives out on the "nearly out of town" edge of town. I still have to figure out the way to get to the bus from there- so far she's giving me rides in and out.
I am so amazed at how she and her family have taken me in with no issues or anything, and are willing to for the forseeable future.
I didn't go back to the apartment until this weekend. I can't say it's been an uplifting experience, really. We're supposed to move all of our stuff into these crates they provided, which will then be shipped out of town for however long it takes. Considering that normally it takes me a month to pack up to move when everything's DRY, I have my doubts this will occur (especially since I'm supposed to be "done" Tuesday morning, and I am busy all day and night tomorrow).
Here's what I came home to find in my room.
How'd you like to move this?
My ceiling hasn't managed to fall in QUITE yet, but it's working on it.
The place smells to high heaven and the stuff in bags that they left outside... let's just say, BIG yikes.
Don't you just love the irony of this sign?
I'm lucky that most of my favorite stuff clotheswise has survived, but there's still a lot of damage. Pretty much anything that wasn't in a case/dresser/on a hanger got wrecked.
To be honest, I'm mostly pissed about the bed and the books. The bed'll be money (though hopefully I can afford an upgraded sized one next. With pillowtop. Hopefully.), but the books just hurts. It's like seeing friends slaughtered on a battlefield around here. Jess took pictures of my ruined favorite tarot book and wants to send them to the creator of the book and deck. She seems amused at the idea.
Financially, I will be getting reimbursed on rent for the time I'm out of the apartment. Current vague estimates run about 2-4 weeks and from five thou to fifteen thou to repair, but a better verdict will come in on Tuesday after the manager brings consultants in. He's been great and very helpful and even brought in someone to help us move shit out this weekend. He also owns a laundromat and is bringing in some kind of laundry pro to do the laundry.
Heather has been, well... AWOL. They told us they'd move out our stuff, but if we wanted to deal with the personal stuff we should come over. I left her several messages telling her she uh, really should do that, but I got one in return saying that she wasn't going to, she wanted them to do it. Frankly, we're all worried she's uh, snapped and doesn't want to deal with it. She was kind of at the end of her mental and physical resources as is even before this happened. I especially felt sad when uh, the mover mentioned moving stuff she uh, didn't want to know about, and when I stumbled across piles of wet pictures of Heather's. There's a lot of stuff that won't get saved because she won't deal with it, but what can you do.
Legalwise, the cleaning company owner is claiming he doesn't have insurance. (Since he owns some property, this uh, doesn't seem likely.) It sounds like if he doesn't have any, then there could very well be a suit I could get in. I'm taking lots of pictures and documenting the carnage when I have the energy to do it.
I ended up going in to work for six hours on Sunday- my boss was way overloaded and needed help bad- and I was happy for the money, not to mention not seeing her keel over. We did my evaluation while I was there, and all was skittles and beer, yay. Plus, well, it was a rest from emotional/physical apartment carnage.
Moving on with life, well... kinda normal and kinda REALLY WEIRD. Jess thinks this is some dramatic turning point in my life going on right now, and lord knows my daily tarot readings are verifying this.