Moved in with Foxy yesterday. This involved picking up the cat, the computer, what few clothes were still in Candler, and the waffle iron. Bear (my cat) and Maevis (her cat) are not on speaking terms yet. We’re trying to keep everyone separated. Luckily, her other cat Dale is stoned off his ass on pain meds cause he got in a fight with a neighborhood cat. He doesn’t want to leave his room and he just looks confused when Maevis and Bear yowl at each other.
But the post about moving should not be about my cats.
We’ve been planning the move for a long time. In January, we decided we wanted to move in together this year. Her roommate The Cleav moved out in March, and we were all set to go and I freaked out. What about my house? What about my garden? What about my bathroom? Did moving in with Foxy mean I was giving up, that I got beat by the difficulty of fixing up my place? I still feel that a little, but mainly I want to be able to wake up next to Foxy every morning and make dinner with her every night without having to worry about whether my cat and plants are taken care of. So now the cat is here and the baby plants will be until they’re ready to go in the ground. I know you were all worried about the baby plants.
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