|I'm going to panic now....
||[Apr. 11th, 2005|08:54 pm]
In about an hour, I'm going home to tell my father....I'm moving.|
Now, this may seem irrational. Unless you know my dad. I realize I'm 30 years old. I also know this kind of shit has gone over badly in the past. Unfortunately, he usually has something to hold over my head. I fear he's got something huge to hold over my head.
And what am I going to do about the next 6 weeks of school. Hell, I should be telecommuting in short order, but what will I do till then? How will I juggle the kids? What am I going to do?
*takes a breath*
Short version...The shit hit the fan last night. I'm done. The kids and I need our own space. I'd hoped to wait until summer. But I found a great place for the right price.
It's not a palace. But it's a nice neighborhood. The landlord is about 65 and he owns the entire street. I have a big yard. 3 bedrooms. Month to month instead of long term lease. And he's a "family" guy. So he tends to rent to nice families with kids and such. Seems like a very sweet guy and the neighbors all seem nice.
I'm moving Friday.
I have to go home and brace for whatever he throws at me. I'm scared. Really, really scared. Yet, somehow, for the first time in my life...I feel closer to free than I've ever been.