On Friday, I went home for the first time in a week.
Door protocol at my house is yelling “Don’t stab me!” for the benefit of my paranoid sister, and if the boys are inside, they run to the door yelling, “POD!” So imagine my surprise when this time, they were followed by the Squidge, fully walking, who also managed a “pod.”
I should really spend more time with those kids. I’m afraid the next time I leave, I’ll come back to find Dozer’s first car in my spot.
I had a perfectly good reason for not being there, really. Uji’s lease ended on Friday, so I was helping him pack up and move–which he does slower than me, because I’ve done it fourteen times in the past ten years and I’m about to do it again. Hence, it taking a week instead of three days. He is also much more careful with his things than I am with mine–mainly because he has nice things and I have whatever cheapo it’ll-do knockoff I found at Goodwill for ninety per cent of my non-book, non-shoe possessions.
His things are now either in storage or the laundry room of his parents’ house, where he will be staying for the next month. This would not be the case, but around the end of July, we decided it was time we got a place together. Which meant hunting for a two bedroom apartment under a thousand dollars not in the Wood Hood, the student ghetto, or the sex-offender neighborhood (we have one–the state puts them all together so the cops can watch then easier.) Our remaining choices were still dodgy, on account of about sixty per cent of renters in Bellingham are students, which makes them sixty per cent easier to screw over if you are a property manager. Students have very little income and usually aren’t aware of their rights as renters, so intimidating/dehumanizing them is a common practice and has been for years.
Fun fact–that’s how the University campus started. Unmarried medieval scholars banded together because they were tired of getting screwed over by their medieval landords, who were well aware that they could jack up the rent in their medieval college towns because a student has to sleep some time, even if it IS only for three hours a night.
Uji’s parents heard we were having trouble (even though neither of us are college students anymore.) After meeting one spaced-out, apathetic landlord, they started looking for houses. To buy. That they would be renting to us. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that someone could be so generous. Hell, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of having a bright, clean, private HOUSE to live in. When we started, Uji and I were trying to find a place with working plumbing, no mold, and at least one window per room. Now, we’re going to be in a cul-de-sac.
I’ll be staying at home for the next month, and I have every intention of making the best of it–after all, I’ve been out-of-touch with my family for most of the summer, between the place-hunting (which was a month of hell,) the packing, and all the non-productive stuff I’ve done to make up for the last four years of always having school or work or both. I’ve done more laying around in the past three months than I have in the last decade. It’s just usually at Uji’s.
Now that there is no “Uji’s,” and before we get swept up in settling in the house, I have a chance to do cool stuff like teach Dozer to make French toast, help Demonic spike his mohawk for school, and catch up on my writing. Uji, in the mean time, gets to spend time with his parents, and with me at my place. He discovered that when my bathroom is clean (as in no heathen piglet handprints in the sink or spilled mouthwash or Cars toothbrushes littered all over hell’s half-acre, and when all the rubber ducks are picked up) it’s got a nice shower. Apparently, Uji’s brothers and he were cleaner growing up than the hellspawn that lives at my house.
Also, Kali doesn’t generally get to cleaning more than two rooms a day, as she cooks for five and the Squidge likes to throw things around the living room. Like her toys. And her fruit puffs. And her shoes. And anything else that isn’t bolted down. Kali also doesn’t sleep much either; the Squidge is apparently nocturnal.
The move will be good for all of us–I’ll get to live with my honey, there will FINALLY be a proper room for the Squidge, and the house is close enough that I can take the boys overnight to get them out of my hair/set them on Uji if I feel like he needs to be mauled by children.