Sunday, May 14, 2006

Port St. Lucie, Fla.

Today I woke up and officially had no place to live; rather, no place to live that I owned. The final walk-thru was yesterday. But the bed at my sister's place here in PSL was comfy, and I had my cat with me, so all was right with the world.

All my personal belongings are scattered throughout my sister's house and in my car. I no longer own a bed, a couch, a kitchen table, a desk, or a bureau. I look around my sister's house and see silk plants, end tables, throw pillows, and corner shelves I've given up. It is eerie in a way; it's like inheriting goods from a relative who's now gone "beyond."

I plan on hitting Melbourne and the Ocala area in the next few days before coming back to PSL to work on some projects and housesit for my sister.

Side note: I just noticed the mousepad at my sister's place; it's obviously one she used at work. It's plain blue with her name written with a black pen. Under her name, she has written, "If found please turn into Security." Why bother?

1 Comments:

Blogger Keith said...

And so it begins... Deep breaths.

When I was still eating meat, Gabby and I found a great restaurant in Ocala/Dunellon. For a good meal and nice atmosphere (78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen and some inert gases thrown in for kicks), try Felix's--917 East Silver Springs Boulevard, Ocala, FL 34470
(352)-629-0339.

As for the mousepad... I guess some people form strange attachments. It could be worse:

"...but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it's not okay because if they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire..."--Milton Waddams, Office Space

Sunday, 14 May, 2006  

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