::is dead::

I think I am suffering from heatstroke. I am all dizzy, disoriented, and really, really tired.

My things are packed. I cleaned the kitchen as best I could. I have hauled endless piles of crap onto the curb. I now sit in the hollow shell that is the room I've lived in for the past three years, mostly glad to be leaving. A lot of shit has happened to me while I lived here. I started my job and my adult life in this apartment. I lost weight while I lived here. I met a boy while I lived here. We had some good times and a lot of very bad, door-slamming bad ones. I met a lot of good people (roommate Annette, Deb) while I lived here. It's a great neighborhood, and I'm sad to leave. But I am really excited to begin another stage of my adult life-- living alone. I'm excited that the next guy in my life won't have to do the walk of shame past my roommates in the morning. I'm glad I'll know I can pee whenever I want, have friends over whenever I want. I can get a cat without limiting myself to roommates without pet allergies. I hope it works out. I hope I don't get monster rats or broken in to or whatever. But I can't judge myself for all of that now. I just have to take a chance and hope it works for me.

I'll probably be incommunicado tomorrow, unless I can get a wireless network signal. Heh. If you hear general pissing and moaning from Back Bay tomorrow, it's probably my barbaric moving yawp.