Supressed

Things are not quite so bad that I am depressed, but bad enough that I feel supressed.

The apartment still hasn’t come through.
Best-case scenario: The seller’s lawyer is really disorganized.
Worst-case scenario: They’re cultivating a better offer and once they have that contract signed they will yank mine out from under me.
Brokers, lawyers, etc keep reassuring me that everything is okay. To which I say, “Great. Show me the contract.”

I also think I picked up a little bug on the train. It’s not terrible, just a little punkiness with a low-grade fever. It’s a miracle it hasn’t happened already, so I can’t complain.

In my continuing effort to get ready for the movers, I’ve been going through a million old VHS tapes. I actually found some television shows I taped when I was living in Cincinnati, which makes them nearly ten years old. I’m giving them all a watch for old-times sake and then pitching them. Only a few tapes are surviving — some of the shows I produced or appeared on. A video of Brittany, Jillian, Darby and Zoe (two and two, not all together) that Mick took for me when I was homesick.

Perhaps I will curl up on the couch and take a nap.

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