Today (the 17th) was the month anniversary of "the fire" and exactly how long since I've called what used to be my apartment my home. I spent a few of the first days at The Compound™ and since then at a place nearby my apartment at the home of a very gracious individual. I've become settled in my daily routine of living out of a suitcase and various other pieces of baggage and the trunk of my car, all of which have random possessions (mostly clothing) that I need access to on a rather consistent basis.
My belongings, other than what I have with me, are being cleaned and stored and last I checked the apartment is being repaired. And even though the living situation is the best I could have ever asked for I still long to be back in my space, not invading another's. No amount of "no worries" will appease my mind into thinking that this extended stay is OK....knowing full well that if the situation were reversed I'd gladly offer my home in a similar fashion.
So in between all the City Race winnin', 'gina eatin' and tour givin' (USC this Saturday) it's easy to forget about the reality of it all, until I start the drive home.
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