Homelessness?

In two weeks, it's a very real possibility that I will be homeless. That's right. On. the. streets.

Okay, I'm exaggerating. I'm not actually afraid that I'll be tossed to the curb with all of my belongings, but I am afraid that the move I was supposed to make will not come to fruition. I'm frustrated. I want to be at home somewhere. I want to stop this game of musical apartments and settle in somewhere for a while. I'm tired of packing, loading, heaving dressers up long staircases. On the other side of my adventure-driven nature is a big fat homebody who just wants to settle somewhere and make a nice little life for myself.

I almost think it makes more sense for me to live alone, though I've been the poster advocate for roommates. I think it vitally important to be in relationship. But, as far as living goes... maybe it is time for me to stake claim of my own space for once. I could decorate just the way I fancy. I could invite friends over whenever I want. I could walk around in my underwear, mouthful with retainer. What bliss!

Sigh. I just don't know. I don't want to punk out on friends and let anyone down, but I'm ready to feel like I can stay put for awhile.