Timeline I, Part V: Movin' Out

I was scheduled to move into my two-bedroom apartment at the end of October.

I found an inexpensive mover and my wife was gracious enough to let me take some furniture, which I did.  I bought a new bedroom set but everything else was taken from the house: some living room furniture that was about 25 years old and bookcases from the basement were most of it.  Oh... my office desk and chair.  A card table served as a dining room table, for the moment.  I took Passover dishes (there is special kitchenware only used during that one week; I could promote them to every day and I'd have a few months to replenish before the holiday).

I spent as little as possible.

I still hadn't found a roommate.

For the record, there was never an "I'm free!" moment.  It was extremely bittersweet, even though I initiated the break.  I was worried about the future and about my kids.  Shortly after the move, I was unpacking and listening to old cassettes and David Massengill's "Great American Dream" came up, a song about broken dreams and I stopped what I was doing and cried like I hadn't done since I was a child.  But I had faith I had made the right choice.  I hoped if I hadn't I could undo what I did.

I put my trust in Thalia, and the universe.

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