Don’t get me wrong. I’m really glad Ochi has re-emerged from wherever he hid himself for the first six hours after I brought him to our new home.
But once he decided this is an OK place, he had to come tell me about all the new things he was discovering. All night. It was very unlike him. Back in the old place, he seldom even slept on my bed.
But last night, every hour or so, he jumped up on the bed, walked over me, sometimes sinking claws lightly into exposed skin, head-butting my nose, speaking various mrows and purrrts, telling me in detail of what he was discovering. There was no sense of anxiety – it wasn’t like he needed to be reassured. He just wanted to share his explorations. Every hour or so. All night.
So now I’m feeling kind of disconnected, as if just walking the laundry down to the washing machines is kind of more than I can manage.
I gave the contractor the keys to the condo this morning so repairs, painting, and carpet laying can commence. He thinks it will take about three weeks, which is not unreasonable, and then the condo can go on the market. The housing market in Portland is pretty good at the moment, and my south-facing one-bedroom with the skylight and fireplace should attract buyers.
So now if they will only please dear God come connect my internet. I could have called them last week, and it would have been all set up when I moved in. And with 300 aging people’s needs to attend to, they can’t be expected to show up within minutes of being called unless it’s an overflowing toilet or something. And yesterday really was a national holiday. But I want my internet. Please. Dear God.