Kicking And Screaming

I would like to say, for the record, that I am having a bad freakin' morning. Really, I'm having a bad f---ing morning, but I've been thinking that I probably shouldn't swear on my blog as a general matter because it sounds ugly, so I'm trying to restrain myself. However, if I was talking to you in person, I would definitely be saying that I am having a bad f---ing morning. By way of background, I always thought swearing for emphasis was fine until I started working with Dragon Lady and had to stand by as she cursed violently under her breath. I realized that when someone is sputtering out curses left and right that it can make others feel really uncomfortable, and it can stress people out. It's also tacky and completely lacking in class. So, I'm trying not to replicate Dragon Lady's annoying (abusive) habits in my own life. Bitch.

So, back to my morning. I'm discouraged. I've been looking for apartments around the clock for two days. I'm now intimately familiar with Craig's List and a host of posters, and yet, a solution to my apartment dilemma has not yet materialized. Nothing seems right. They're are problems with all of the possibilities, and maybe that's something I'm going to have to accept: I'm not going to find anything close to ideal because of this shitty situation that has been foisted upon me. Speaking of foisting upon me, don't think I'm only blaming Raj. Far from it. On my way to work this morning I was berating myself for deciding to move in with him and giving up my lovely, gorgeous, beautifully decorated apartment.

But you know, even now when everything has fallen apart, I wouldn't have done it differently. I loved him and I wanted to be with him. And, though I'm surprised to be having this thought at the moment, I don't regret living with him. I don't regret trying to share my life with his. Ok, enough of that mushy stuff that is going to send me back into a pit of weeping despair.

When I moved in with him we were in the midst of working through our "issues," but that didn't give me any pause because I was convinced that we would work out our issues and, basically, live happily ever after. Was I sniffing anything at the time? No. Do I consider myself to be a flighty, naive person? No. I just knew that I loved him, and I believed he loved me, and it seemed that we had come back together for a reason: to be together for the long haul. I never would have got back together with him after being apart for a year if I hadn't been sure that this time it was going to be forever. In that mindset, moving in together seemed like a natural step. Especially in New York when paying two rents and spending most nights together doesn't make a lot of financial sense. I totally admit that; we both took into account the financial benefits of combining our living space.

What I didn't bargain on was that the relationship would not work out. What I also failed to consider was how the ending of the relationship might impact me when suddenly I found myself without a home to call my own. I didn't think about how I would feel trying to come to terms with a break-up and trying to grieve while at the same time trying to find a new place to live. The reality is, you can not grieve while trying to find an apartment in New York. There's just not enough time! The last two evenings I've spent hours on Craig's List, pouring over ads and leaving messages, and I've done that because, frankly, I don't have any choice. Ok, I guess I do have a choice. I could choose to stay in a really shitty situation and do nothing to take care of myself, or I could choose to try to find a new place to live. I've chosen, wisely, to pursue the latter course, but the latter course (especially in New York) sucks.

I don't want to be looking for an apartment right now. It takes up almost all of my energy, and what I want to be doing right now is crying, getting perspective, grieving, drowning my sorrows with friends, and doing pretty much anything other than slogging through the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn trying to find the next place to which I'm going to have to move my stuff. I don't want to think about what to do with my bed, or how much stuff I can get rid off. I don't want to go through my clothes and sort the ones I can give away to goodwill. I don't want to be in this mindset like I'm on a sinking ship and in order to survive I've got to cut off all the dead weight. I'm not ready to cut off all the dead weight in a mad rush. I want time to sort through my things and get things in order. But, unfortunately, I don't have time.

I also need to work, which is incredibly difficult while being super stressed out about finding an apartment immediately. I think it's complete and utter bullshit that I (and only I) have to be in this frenzy to extricate myself from what used to be "our" life, immediately. He made this decision not me, and because of his decision my entire life has been turned upside down. Yes, I'm feeling sorry for myself. And, yes, I do not think this is fair. I did not know that we would be breaking up. But I guess you never do.

I'm pissed today. Mostly I'm pissed because, as a result of Raj's decision, I do not even have time to be pissed. I need to work, I need to find an apartment, and neither of those leave much time to revel in one's emotions. Now, after this blogging diversion, I have to go back to my f---ing work, so that I can finish it as quickly as possible so that I can continue my f---ing apartment search. I'm pissed, sad, and angry and I think all of this is unfair.