I struggled a bit this weekend with not wanting to get out there and enjoy what's left of the summer and I struggled with what can only be described as a foul mood.
Getting so close to having a relationship and then losing it is bringing me down.
It's not even about Chad himself anymore, but it's about the idea of him and the idea of what we might have had and it's about how great we got along.
I'm pretty wound up right now. Packing my place seems like it's never ending and people have already moved out of the building and I feel like maybe I'm doing it wrong. I don't know why, except that I've made the choice to use a moving company and I haven't seen anyone else doing that and it makes me feel like a wimp or something.
I just don't want to be that person who calls up their guy friends and says "hey, beer and pizza if you do all the work for me!" because I can't lift things. Even packing has messed with my back. So I want pros to do it for me and I guess I feel weird about that because... well, because I've never done it before.
And there's something weird about being surrounded by boxes of your things. And there's something even weirder about living with just the bare minimum and wondering just how many of those things you really don't need. And knowing that I'll be putting things into storage and then moving all over again is weird.
And then there's the sick that's trying to take over. I know my body gets run down under stress, so there's that. And then there's the dust. I swear, boxes make dust. And when my place feels like a disaster zone, I don't feel like sweeping or dusting, but dust makes me sick, and so I know I should keep things clean but.. it's like I can't be bothered.
So it feels like nothing's solid and that I don't know when things will be solid again. I don't have a move date yet and I don't know when I'll be moving back in and my brain doesn't work well with gray areas and unknowns and uncertainties so everything just feels... yuck.
And there are a lot of things that I want to ask my Dad to do. Dad, come over and help me move my tv. Dad, can you show me how to take my bed apart? Dad, can you figure out if this couch will fit through that door? But I can't ask him, can't ask him to do those kinds of things anymore. So I'm not really sure who to lean on here.
And everything with Chad this past month threw me off my exercise schedule. And I can tell. I haven't run in weeks and I haven't been to the gym probably since the day we met. And that's frustrating, but I'm also in that grumpy, lazy, busy mode that's hard to break out of.
It feels like so many changes have been forced upon me and I wish things with Chad had been perfect and good because it would have been so, so nice to have that distraction to look forward to. And maybe I could ask him to do some of those things I'd usually ask my Dad to do.
I feel like I need a rest. A vacation getaway, but it's also just the start of the changes and potential stresses to come. Add on to that the days getting shorter and me not taking care of myself and eating poorly and it's no surprise that I ended up less than happy this weekend.
I hope once a few more things fall into place or get taken care of (you should see my current to-do list) and I have less to worry about (utilities to cancel, moving company to book, packing to complete, not to mention the things I can't pack until the day I leave and then all the things I can't pack at all but still have to transport to my parents' place. ARGH!) I'll start feeling better and calmer.
I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore, but there you go.
I'm struggling with what's going on and I'm wishing I had a happy relationship to keep me entertained through the struggles.