Getting Out of Oz

Note: This was originally written on Thursday, but since I have had no wi-fi since then, I decided to post it today.

 

“The sooner you get out of Oz altogether, the safer you’ll sleep, my dear.”

“Oh, I’d give anything to get out of Oz altogether.”

— The Wizard of Oz

 

I am writing this on the plane to my new home, though I will post it later. Even this reality, this fact, this flight hasn’t been able to crack my veneer of calm and unaffectedness, has not been able to disturb the smooth waters of my tranquility. I know that I am stressed — my body is showing it in the ways it normally does. I’m breaking out, I have no appetite (which only happens when I have severe stress), and I either can’t sleep or sleep like Nosferatu. It’s a time of extremes.

Yet I don’t feel any of it inside. Not yet. I think the cocoon of calm will shred and burn when I get to my new home and settle in. I won’t have anything to do! I won’t have to pack, I won’t have to run around to make sure my work laptop has all the appropriate programs, I won’t have to schedule anything, I won’t have two weeks of dinner dates to plan and attend, I won’t have to coddle the ex, I won’t have to look for a job, I won’t have to do anything. My schedule is empty. And that void, that chance to relax will be my undoing, I think.

My last night there I managed to see my best friends and hang out with them. It was sad, but it didn’t really hit me. This morning my ex acted like a goddamned fool — part of which was because I caught him creeping out at 3am and stealing our roommate’s truck to do…nobody knows. Hoping out older roommate wasn’t sick again (heart condition), I tried to make sure they were both okay, then told my ex I’d be glad to not have to worry about him anymore, then wished him happiness and luck. He never responded. This morning, he walked to the bathroom, refused to acknowledge me, slammed the bathroom door shut, and locked it. I cussed him out lightly, threw away some stuff I needed to, and then loaded the truck to go to the airport. I tapped on the door and said, “Well, goodbye anyway. Good luck.” I suspect he’s embarrassed, chagrined, and irritated at being caught. I also know he loves me and is trying to push me away so he doesn’t hurt. It won’t work. I’m FAR too awesome. *cackle!*

Anyway, I don’t have to deal with it ever again, nor will I have to deal with the work drama, the incessantly barking dogs, the 8 months of summer, the distractions, the pain, the forced lack of a social life, or the general unhappiness with my situation.

I’m literally on my way to a new life, and even if it hasn’t hit me mentally yet, I know I’m better off.

 

“This used to be a Funhouse, but now it’s full of evil clowns…I’ll find a new place, burn this fucker down.”

— P!nk, Funhouse

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~ by Darren Endymion on August 22, 2016.

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