I'm getting nervous and excited. Friday I purchased a mattress bag and a cat carrier (it's really cute and has bones on it. Some people might think this makes it a "dog carrier," but I'm going with a very strict definition of "cat carrier," which is, "something comfy for a sedated Sir to move to DC in"). Sir may never forgive me for the sedative and carrier combo, which will likely make him the crankiest feline everrrrrrr. (Except for the feline that is Sir tomorrow, when I put him in the self-same cat carrier and DON'T sedate him, in order that I take him to the vet and thus make him angry at me for at least a week.)
He's already kind of mad at me (being standoffish and yowling a good deal) because he has figured out that I'm moving. He'll look at the boxes, and look at me, and just start yowling. It's kind of cute, in an obnoxious, loud kind of way.
Speaking of Sir, he is sound asleep on Mr. Bear (a creatively named bear from my entire childhood, that still sleeps on my bed). He is just...perfect. I am so infinitely happy that he can come with me. For quite a while I thought that it was possible I'd have to leave him at home. I was inconsolable. Heartbroken. I thought he was going to cost too much if we were even able to find a pet friendly location at all. As it is, I pay an extra $15 a month for him, and its $15 well spent. I love my cat.
Today, though, I started packing. It doesn't look like I have that much stuff when it comes to it, but I feel like my perception will change as I start boxing things up and running out of room in the truck. When I move. On moving day.
It's starting to feel real. Up to now, it's been... not real. Like, oh yes, we see this place, and, oh yes, we like it, and, oh yes, now we're signing leases, and, oh yes, now we're talking logistics of the move, but still. It's felt very much like it's someone else's life. I guess it kind of is someone else. A new, grown up Chris, not much like the one that I am currently. Yikes.
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