My mom called around lunchtime – as expected, since she hadn’t called one Wednesday – so I talked with her for a little while about plans for the drive down. I feel a little bad, she had plans to go to my godparents’ next weekend (the previously mentioned slumber party). Since things are up in the air with my departure and arrival, she’s put off their visit. She didn’t want me arriving to an empty house when I finally can leave here.
I won’t lie. I understand why she changed the plans, and I appreciate that she doesn’t want me to be alone. Fuck, I don’t want to be alone; I’ve been alone for a fucking year now. On the other hand, think of how nice it would have been nice to let the boys settle in an empty house.
I keep walking around wanting to do stuff. There’s nothing. I want to pack the truck, but I need to do laundry one more time before I put the footlocker in there.
I’m going to go out today. I decided it’s a human day. I’m buying edibles, and then going to find something to keep the cats calm on the trip. I texted my sister to ask when she wants me to drop off a step stool for her. Considering I asked her the same question a week ago and she left me on read, I have no idea if she’ll even get the damned thing before I leave.
