I don't think I've been as emotional as I've been the past few days. Since Monday, if I haven't been crying, I've been walking around with a hard lump not in my throat, but just to the right of my heart... I guess it's my esophagus.

I found a place. A Leisure Suit Larry-era style bachelor pad, which appeals to my sense of not having to clean up after myself. Ha. It's a basement apartment, in a house broken up into a few units. It's sort of old and dark, but it's cheap (the same as what I was paying in SH, and I don't have to pay for cable). It's available almost immediately (will be moving in the 16th), and I'm only locked in until August, when I will most likely find some place a little nicer. It's also close to work. I may be able to walk to work, but I'll have to experiment with that.

The job seems great. One of the programs is a collaboration with CACs, which, duh, I'm totally knowledgeable on, so that's a plus. The girl I'll replace is so nice, I told her I didn't want to replace her. Ha.

Back to the lump. Remember that little, insecure, vulnerable little girl that lives in the dark recesses of my mind? I'm pretty sure she's the lump. (Henceforth: Little Girl=Lumpy). She has developed a rather large crush on this guy she knows, and she's really afraid something bad is going to happen. Lumpy made me have a terrible dream last night, except, in the midst of all the terror, I started walking down the street (in my dream), and I began floating, like a balloon, sometimes lightly landing on my feet, only to jump up again, and float. It was a nice feeling. I don't know what it means, but I've had this happen a few times in previous dreams.

This morning, I woke up from the dream, shaken, sad, and confused. I went upstairs, climbed into bed with the love of my life, and at least for a little while, everything was okay.