Fruit salad (yummy, yummy)

My mom said that when she was pregnant with me, she suddenly started seeing people with babies everywhere. Babies in carriages, baby car seats, the baby sections in stores seemed to be the prominent section. She knew she just hadn’t really noticed it before, but it seemed that suddenly, everywhere was Baby City, Population: Babies and my mom.
I think I’m living the same sort of thing right now, except that instead of babies, everywhere I look, there’s a story about a bank-robbery standoff in North Hollywood, the booming porn industry of West LA, a drive-by, a serial killing spree, a landslide, an earthquake, an outbreak of Ebola, an outbreak of spontaneous combustion, and just generally people falling over dead for no reason at all in every house in California at all times.
I guess these things happen everywhere, but I guess I just needed to have something else to worry about.
I’m not too worried, actually. Despite the fact that I should be.
I should be because I just started taking stuff out of my apartment this week.
I should be because I have to live with my parents for a couple weeks.
I should be because I have to move out this weekend in a Uhaul and then I have to come back and scrub the apartment down.
I should be because I’m driving out there without a place to live in.
But that all doesn’t really worry me.
Despite the fact that all people have been asking me for, oh, the last FIVE MONTHS, “So, how’s the move coming?! Are you ready yet?”
Despite the fact that I’ve told them all a million times, “Well, it’s coming as well as it has in the past 25 years inasmuch as I haven’t done a DAMN THING about it, because it doesn’t make much sense to start packing up my apartment until I’m, you know, NOT GOING TO LIVE IN IT, and it doesn’t make much sense to look for an apartment before I can move in, because, I don’t know, maybe I can’t LIVE THERE until I move out of here, and it didn’t make much sense to “plan ahead” because things change day to day, much less month to month.
I’ve had 4 different potential roommates, hundreds of potential living spaces, 15 or so different methods of getting out there both cheaply and practically, and they’ve all changed in status approximately 35786381 times.
So, yes, I haven’t done ANY prep work besides worrying, and now that it’s upon me and I see how much I have left to do, I have finally realized that my worrying was for naught, because all I have to do is it!
I’m here, the time is upon me, and I’m ready, and no amount of preparation could have made this any easier.
The only thing for sure is that when I get there and when I have a place, before I get my cable, phone, or a working lightbulb, I’m getting a little kitty.
I thought about naming it something that embodied all the hardships I overcame and how I empowered myself to make this move, but that’s gay, so I settled on Lieutenant Colonel Whiskers V. FluffClaw.

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