March 23rd, 2005

Housewife's Lament

Moving In

I've been here a good 3/4 of a month, and I still have boxes that aren't unpacked yet. This would be more minor if only this were not a small studio apartment. I can see having a lot of that going on in a large house, or a large apartment, but given that I took off an entire week and a half to do my moving, and I've had a lot of three-day weekends since then, it would make sense that I should be almost entirely unpacked by now.

The place is taking on a slightly respectably disreputable "lived-in" look, which is to say that mail in various states of opened is scattered on the kitchen counter, my crucial electronics are set up lovingly, my bed is its usual shambles of pillows and blankets. The shower is operational, and my day-to-day clothes are in the closet or various stages of in need of washing. There are edible things in the refrigerator. But it's still clear that this is still being picked up and put away.

There's another load of boxes sitting by the trash to be picked up and taken by someone who needs them more than I do. Once they're gone, I'll feel a lot better...
bondmates, sigil

Night is for the young

Figment dropped by last night, and we had a long talk about things. We realized more of how the bond was laid out, and realized some of the current limitations on things.

Marah's bonded to Figment.
Naomi's bonded to Darkside.
I've chosen Darkside, and shall continue to choose him.
garnetdagger is her own.

Figment really ticked me off (allowed me to think that something had happened on its own rather than telling me he'd fixed it) but I understand his reasoning, and once he realized that it Just Didn't Work, he 'fessed up and let me deal with it. We're evil twins. We can work these things out. It was an acceptable lie, because it was done out of love to try and keep one of my black moods from getting destructive.

In the morass of figuring out what was up with the bonds and all, I became despondent and nearly unresponsive, because I'd crawled so far back into myself. Figment has picked up immediately on the trick that if you're severely worried about an unresponsive or hysterical Lunatic, you play the "Don't make me call Darkside at midnight!" card. A Lunatic who's capable of picking herself back up together will do so, and a Lunatic who's incapable of doing so needs someone who knows how to patch the pieces back up together. Figment decided that even though I was starting to come back, I was still scaring him sufficiently that he wasn't about to leave me alone, which was dead-on of him, because if I don't trust him when he's like that, he shouldn't trust me when I'm like that. So he wound up dragging me off with him and installing me on the couch in his living room at some obscene hour of the morning. His cat was miffed, and sulked on top of him in his bed instead of pestering the new person.

In other news, I need to get going for my errands before writing group, because I still have another four pages of cuttingrmfloor to finish to meet my stated goals for the week. Yay, me. I think I'll have a chance at getting it done if I push myself...