If I'm even more muddled than usual for the next month or so, it's for a good reason.
After twelve years shoehorned into the Home Office, I'm leaving for a place that will be a true home, with an office. Separate. No work will be allowed to contaminate the living area.
With three bedrooms, a living room and a family room, plus a large kitchen with a dining area, there should be plenty of space without having to have the two parts of my life overlap. And with a roomy, fenced backyard, I have a retreat where I can just sit and read, as well as a place where I can get my hands dirty, if I so choose. The lawn is overgrown at the moment, but I expect it to become my refuge. It's definitely something I haven't had for twelve years. Even then, all I had was an apartment with a patio and no real yard.
When I got to the new place to turn in my application, I told Jerry and Fred, my new landlords, that I would give them time to look it over and check me out. They said they'd already decided that I could have the place. I refrained from doing any cartwheels across the new linoleum, but I was thrilled that my brief search was over, and happy to be out of my current digs.
I'm as nervous as a cat, prowling around my house tonight, wondering what I can take, what I can get rid of, and how to pack. I'll start on one project and flash on something else I want to do. Needless to say, nothing is truly being accomplished. It will almost be a relief when Monday comes and all I have to think about is doing my job.
Some people move around a lot. Maybe you can get used to this upheaval. Maybe when you move all the time you don't accumulate as much utterly useless crap. And maybe you don't obsess so much about tiny details that you lose sight of the big picture.
Because in the big picture, I'm going to be a whole lot more comfortable, and a whole lot more relaxed. It gets intense, living with your work this way.
I couldn't do this without the Boss's help. I thanked him in advance, then wrote a strongly worded request that he participate in the new, higher rent I'll be paying. It's a delicate matter, because he's a ticking time bomb under the best of circumstances. You can never be sure what might set him off, and I've seen him at his worst. So far, it's never been directed at me, in over thirteen years. I'd prefer to keep it that way, but he can't afford to turn me down any more than I can afford to have him do that.
For years, I've been listening to people tell me that he's taking advantage of me, even people that have more stake in his life than mine. His girlfriend regularly encourages me to stand up to him. Now the chorus is getting a little louder. I'm not one to rock the boat, but I've been drifting in the doldrums for a long time. Could it be time to make some waves?
Since I couldn't reach the Boss by phone all weekend, I faxed the note to his office, letting him know what was going on. I did that this afternoon, after using a company check to pay the deposit on my new place. (Oh, yes, I told him that, too.)