The big move-out has begun! Packing up 4 years of living in the same place is not fast or easy, but I got a lot done this weekend. Still feeling anxious about the whole thing but I’m looking forward to living much closer to work and play. I’m slightly anxious about moving day and all the heavy lifting - I definitely strained my back yesterday and had to spend a large part of the afternoon recuperating. When I get home today I’m going to pack up the rest of my living room (just the shoe rack and books left) and then I can start migrating over some of my furniture. I also need to post my treadmill on the local buy-nothing group and call the Habitat Re-Store about picking up some of these heavy ass living room tables and a futon mattress that I can’t use anymore.
I just got back from lunch with my homegrrl and another homegrrl, and y’all. I’m pretty sure I just failed at adult friendship here. I think I wanna call quits on my standing Monday lunch date with them. They’re just really into psychedelics to the point that that’s all they wanna talk about. Imagine me being turned off by people who love drugs huh. I don’t judge them for being into mushrooms, not at all, but I don’t do psychedelics anymore and I just can’t share in the conversation. There’s nothing more to talk about when they always steer the convo to psychedelics and tripping and stuff. Also they just lack decorum in ways that I don’t fuck with - all 3 of us are queer people but today one of them was saying the f-slur in a crowded restaurant repeatedly, and people started staring. This particular person really likes acting out in public and talking about certain stuff in very inappropriate settings, and that’s fine when she’s not with me. Like, she’ll whisper as quietly as possible about eating shrooms every weekend but then start literally shouting slurs and anal sex talk in a bubble tea joint. Suddenly things become this weird performance of uniqueness or quirkiness and I just don’t give enough of a shit about what other people think of me to want to participate. I’d rather have a quiet lunch.
They are both super into the gender binary in very not-cool ways, even though they claim to be radically-minded counterculturalists. Together, they are just not my kind of people. I can handle them separately, but definitely not together. It turns into the Cool Chick Olympics without fail and then I’m just sitting there with my face in my lunch while they shout their business everywhere and gossip about people. I have more fun when I eat alone.