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03-10-02 - 1:06 p.m. In the next two weeks, diary entries may become sporadic. As if they're not now. The reason for this is simple: I'm moving. I'm staying in San Diego, but I absolutely have to have a bigger place than this apartment. Which saddens me because I love this place. Actually, I'm going to be biting my tongue (this hurts when you have a tongue ring!) and moving with my posse into the house my father left me. I went and investigated it the other day. It's a little closer in proximity to the ocean, but on a different beach. Not the one I live at now. It's two storeys, has four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a whirlpool bathtub! It's furnished, too. Sparsely and hideously, but still...a couch is a couch is a couch. Eat your heart out, Gertrude Stein. The main problem, as Rob, Bryan, Justin, and I noticed as we walked in the other morning, is the dust. It hangs in the air, waiting for just the right chance to fly down your trachea and make you cough and sneeze and feel instantly dirty. But I felt okay in it. I had had this fear of feeling angry or scared being anywhere my father had called a home, but I didn't. And when I left, I felt a surge of pride in knowing that I'd been okay. I was talking to Rob about it today. I told him that if he wanted to stay with us, since his roommate's moving in with Carrie, that he'd have to sleep in a separate room from mine. And I get the biggest bedroom. Seriously, though, how cool am I? I'm supporting three people in this apartment with my one paycheck, about to move into a nice house by the beach, working overtime for a great man. I have amazing friends, even better parents, a pregnant sister to whom I'm becoming steadily closer, another sister, who, when she decides to start talking to me again, has the ability to be a great friend, I'm insured, I understand technical and IRS jargon, oh hell, I could go on for hours. Heh heh. I'm through with being depressed. Really this time. What's the point, anyway? Misery loves company, but company loves a good time. And I always felt alone anyway. Today is a good day. And it's a Sunday.
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