So, yeah… Friday looms on the horizon. The day. I’m almost all packed, leaving mostly kitchen stuff and the dreaded computer hardware tear-down and box-up.
My problem now is, I can’t stop playing scenes and speeches through my head of what I’m going to say to these two when I’m just about home free. Because, I anticipate some problems. Why? Because I’m going to want to take some things that I don’t think they will want to part with. Like the big comfy couch. Like the DVD player. Like the TV set. Like the microwave. Like whatever else I can get away with that hasn’t already been cubby holed away. All of these things have been in heavy use by these two, since mostly all they do all day is watch movies and eat.
So I see the showdown in my head. I’ve seen it in many ways. I’ve heard myself giving grand, cruel monologues. I’ve seen fights broken up by police. I’ve seen sob-fests and guilt trips. I’ve seen myself coming back to the apartment when no one’s home and clearing the place out. I’ve seen myself saying to hell with it and wandering off empty handed. I’ve seen miraculous 11th hour surprises that leave all accounts settled.
I’m really not sure which of these is going to happen. It’s so petty that it comes down to things, but the things have turned into a principle. And that is, why should I be missing any conveniences of home, whatsoever— especially after these two have used me, freeloaded on me, caused me grief and stress, and left me with next to nothing to show for it? Why should I go without, for even one day, anything that makes life more convenient while they enjoy a pretty much consequence free ride of bending me over a table?
The problem is, however, in my confidence that I can execute any stern plan of confrontation. This feeling is angst, not purpose. I’m thinking too far ahead, of how bad they might feel, and what things would be like for them after I leave. I know this is bullshit, and that I should thinking nothing of it, but I can’t seem to help it.
Maybe I should call in for some back up, or get slightly drunk before the final confrontation. Or both.