Over the weekend I moved out of my old apartment that I shared with my girlfriend/wife/estranged wife for almost 4 years. I'll be honest, packing up all the memories, knick-knacks, photos, her sewing materials and such, made me want to drive down to Oklahoma and punch my estranged wife in the face. Rational? Not really, but I'm pretty sure it would have made me feel better.
What precipitated the move was the fact that I wasn't able to afford my rent after my wife left and took all the savings we had, so I was asked (forced) to move out on pretty short notice.
I packed on Saturday, moved on Sunday. As the night fell on Sunday, I was able to finish getting all of my stuff moved, but I did leave piles of garbage bags packed with shit I don't want, along with pieces of furniture I no longer have a use for. Since my wife is also on the lease, my plan is to send my landlord a letter explaining that the stuff left in the apartment is hers and to bill her for any clean up. Ethical? Who knows. Personally rewarding? You bet your sweet ass!
Here is a stunningly bad drawing of my cat "Monster" going ape-shit and gouging my arm while I tried to remove her from the soon-to-be-moved couch:
Monday, July 2, 2007
My cat did not want the couch to be moved, but it had to be
Posted by delia's dad at 7/02/2007 02:24:00 PM
This post is about: divorce, Marriage, Moving, relationships
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