Vagrant

It's done. I am now homeless.

My parents came up to Ottawa on Friday and moved me out of my house. Of course, they nearly strung me up by the rafters when they saw the state of my apartment. Let's just say it wasn't quite as ready to pack up as I implied. Apparently we have differing opinions on ready to go. In the end, we managed to get the things I wanted to keep into two cars and a minivan.

On a related note, people are scavengers. Every piece of furniture I put to the road was gone within 15 minutes. The futon, shelves, my desk, and other assorted junk. Some guy even took the ratty old blankets my mom threw out into garbage bags, with garbage. I guess one can never underestimate the need for seemingly inconsequenstial stuff.

The weekend was, however, stressful and emotional. Closing one chapter of my life to write a new one comes with saying a lot of goodbyes. While I know I will see some people again, many will move on and our paths may not cross again. Well, there is always FaceBook.

I did manage to get my car insured and plated for the drive down. That was, in no small way, a miracle in itself. My dad felt getting the temporary permit was too easy and perhaps we ought to scurry out of there before some one changed their minds. Then there was finding a cheap battery, which my dad and I did. Only after I yelled at him to say there was no way there would be a deal where he thought there would be. After all, I had worked in the area at a neighbouring dealership in the parts department, I would know. As it happens, we passed by a shop that sold a particular brand of batteries, the brand of batteries for the Jag. If that wasn't a sign from the heavens, I don't know what is. I went in and asked, and yup, they had gently used batteries in the price range I was looking for. My dad enjoyed that moment for a while.

Then there was the drive back... Burning oil that puffed out behind the car in smelly blue clouds. Did I forget to mention the engine is in dreadful state of disrepair?