I’m out!

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I have had quite a day, and it isn’t over yet (I still have a (short) paper to write), but I’m feeling pretty good about life. For starters, I love my friends. So much. I couldn’t have gotten through the day without them. Literally everything they did today made me grateful to know such wonderful people.

As soon as I turned my phone on after taking my pediatrics test (which was ok. I didn’t walk out feeling great, but I woke up incredibly depressed today because I was dreading moving and inevitably fighting with my roommates, so it would have taken a lot to make me walk out with a smile on my face) I saw a message from one of the roommates telling me to get my stuff out of the apartment (I deleted her texts- all of them, after moving my last box. Part of me wanted to keep them as evidence, but I didn’t want that negativity on my phone anymore). Then, when I went to pick up my new keys, I walked into a freshly painted door, so now my forest service jacket is covered in white paint. Needless to say, I was not in a good mood when I got back to my (old) apartment, and my roommate immediately told me that I had to get everything out of my room, and then practically barked at me to do it now when I paused to take off my jacket. I was on my own at that point, but my friend Buki showed up soon after, and the two of us moved the brunt of my stuff into the dining room. My friends Sara and Emily showed up soon after, and then my friend Matt, so I had plenty of help. Throughout this process my roommate was standing in the kitchen, watching us carrying things, and baking, which made the whole apartment hot. Have I mentioned lately that I’m happy to be away from that place? It’s honestly like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Of course things wouldn’t have been complete without one last confrontation, which came when I had moved the last of my stuff and went back into the old place to get my food. My roommate had taken it all out of the fridge (though not my ketchup, which is lost to me, along with my paring knife. I don’t mind about the ketchup, but the knife bugs me- it was a nice one that my parents let me take from their house, but I couldn’t find it anywhere while I was packing) and put everything in plastic bags that she put on the floor by the door (except for one tupperware of chicken, sweet potatoes, and kale, which she either ate or threw away- the empty container was in the sink). I was prepared to walk out and leave it at that, but she asked me what I was doing with my keys, and when I told her I had planned on giving them to the new girl she balked. She said she didn’t want anyone in the house while she was out, and I didn’t live there anymore, and I had to leave the keys with her, the implication being that I would come back once she had left and mess with things. I told her I would give the new girl her keys, and when she refused to accept that my friend Jen stepped in and told her to back off (it was very gallant actually. Jen is one of the most peaceful people I know, but she’ll mess a bitch up if she thinks it’s necessary). C. was very rude to her, which was validating, since no one else had seen them in action, and so didn’t understand what I had been up against all year, but also infuriating, because she was so out of line. In the end I left the key with the leasing agent, but the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve felt like crying all day, from worry, and tiredness, and gratitude, and relief. I’ve really been through an emotional ringer, and I’m honestly exhausted- I don’t know how I’m going to manage for the rest of the week, because I’m spent.

On the bright side, the new place is lovely. It’s small, but it has more storage than I initially realized, and I have the whole thing to myself, which is glorious. It’s all freshly painted, and the carpeting is nice and new, and I’m so, so glad to be here.

Jen took me to Target after the move, and on the way in I told her that while my living situation has been a nightmare, there is a point to it. I know life doesn’t always make sense or have a moral at the end, but because I lived with the worst people I’ve ever met I’ve been able to fully appreciate some of the best. Being unhappy has made me appreciate being happy so much more than I might’ve otherwise. It’s also probably made me stronger and all that jazz, but mostly the appreciating good people thing. And now I worry less about whether I’m a bad person, because I’ve seen what bad people are actually like. So there’s that.

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4 responses »

  1. kindly send your new address to me. I’d like to celebrate your removal from that hellish group with a (new)house warming present.

  2. It’s really true – hard times always help us appreciate the people who love us. Maybe that’s part of the reason we have them. Anyway, so happy you’re out, and I second Grandma’s request for a new address (but not, obviously, posted on your blog).

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