I pretty much get nauseated the second I walk in my door at home now from stress. We want to leave. The roommates won't communicate with us about what the hell they want to do, whether it's roommates or proving they can afford this rental by themselves. In the meantime, Taylor and I are apartment hunting and seeking tenants to replace us on the lease.
We're in this horrible limbo though where we can't really move forward with anything until we find replacements or they decide to do it on their own. So every time I come home it's like a lead weight drops on me and I want to puke.
Last night Taylor asked if I wanted to go camping. We took her truck out into the desert, found a good secluded spot and made a nest in the bed of her truck. It was lovely. The air was nice and cool, and even though I couldn't sleep well because we couldn't fully stretch and we needed more padding, I had the most vivid dreams. I heard coyotes right around us, and quail, morning birds, and dogs and chickens, and crickets chirping all night long. We fell asleep looking at constellations and woke up to the sun rising and it was great.
Now I'm back in this super tense unhappy home where we pretend the other couple is invisible and they call their dog away from socializing with us, and I just want to run away. Upsides to the day though, even though I feel sick, a friend got me Cerberus. He's sitting on my desk hunting up some new tenants so we can get the hell out of here. (Get it?)
