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Thursday, July 27, 2000

boxesEric was here tonight for a while, gathering as many of my packing boxes as I've had time to empty. He's moving out of his apartment Saturday, even though he doesn't have a place to move to yet. He has to vacate by next week, and he starts working at his new building at the same time. Fortunately, he has cousins who live within spitting distance of his new East Bay office, and they'll give him a home as long as he needs one. Probably try to talk him into staying longer.

For now, all his furniture will be stored in the big trailer. I've offered to help, but luckily they can do it without me. Since it's pretty much a one-way move, down the stairs and into the trailer, an extra person would just get in the way.

He's not completely gone from Santa Rosa yet. The week after next he's taking a certification course here and will be staying at his parents' house. By the time that's over, he might be ready to move. I wished him good luck tonight, but he reminded me that things always work out. And for him, they do, probably because he doesn't waste energy stressing over them.




I, on the other hand, am stuck in a place I dislike, only because I jumped at the first chance I had to move. Did I need to move? Yes. Did I need to move as quickly as I did? Well, in a way I did, because the Boss was offering to participate in my rent payments, but I knew the window would close quickly on that one. I've been there before, where he's said he wanted to do something for me, and then something more important has come up, and I've been left twisting in the wind.

Three years ago he was going to buy me a house! I was ambivalent about being that fully obligated to him, knowing how he tends to use people. I pictured him living in a granny unit over the garage, where a few years down the road I would find myself feeding him tepid broth with his favorite spoon. Despite that chilling prospect, it was an offer I could scarcely refuse. Since I'd never qualify for a loan on my own, he was going to buy the house in his name and then will it to me. What a setup, right? If I could trust him, that is.

It wouldn't have been easy for him to get to the money we needed to pull this off, because it's tied up in a trust, but it could have been done. Probably the potential battles with the bank and his co-trustees doomed that scheme from the start.

And anyway, before it could get off the ground, he learned the Company was being evicted from our shop and would have to look for a new facility where the crew could work. That was the end of any offer to commit a share of his money to me.

Last year he told me the Company would buy me a car, but I couldn't justify that to myself. I don't drive to work, and he wanted to buy me a second car, to be used just for company business. So I'd have two cars sitting in my driveway, one of which served no purpose whatsoever. Neither one of them would get enough use to keep them running right.




As for my current situation, I could have been more careful about where I moved. It might have taken no more than a few days to find a more suitable place. But I loved the size and layout of Green Acres, and I foolishly overlooked the problems of a too-thin wall separating me from noisy neighbors, and a yard too large and unruly for me to handle.

So I do what I always do. I suffer the consequences of my poor decision and make the best of it. Wishing I'd been smarter doesn't help. Moving again is out of the question. Finding a way to live here and not drive myself over the edge about it is the challenge I have to face.




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