...when your boyfriend(?) calls to tell you he's going to be late getting home from work.
And he lives in another country.
Actually, it's kind of sweet. I mean, a guy should call when he's going to be late for a date, right? Well, we had a date set for tonight.
And he was worried because in my morning email I said I'd found the cure for procrastination: hatred. I'm just so over my living situation and he's (Asshole, not Matt) being a jerk. It really has helped with the fact that I hadn't packed all weekend, though, because I've worked like crazy today and am about ready to fall down. Between the heat and the packing and the digging through dumpsters for boxes earlier today and the really lousy night of sleep I got due to cat fights...I'm pretty exhausted. And more than a little emotional.
Five more sleeps until at least most of Asshole's stuff - including, hopefully, him - is gone and eleven more sleeps until I'm gone, too.
Comments