In this gaudy apartment complex
A stranger with your door key
Explaining that I'm just visiting
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving.

The Postal Service, "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight"
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I'm spending more nights just crashing here at work. I'm so engrossed right now, not only with work, but also with house- (and moving-) related stuff that I'm not even worried about where I sleep. I explained it to a friend that I derive comfort not from my own bed, but in getting choose my bed. My bedroom in Thousand Oaks is a jumbled mess of folded clothes that have yet to be put away, and papers that will probably never get filed. There are books and empty juice bottles and half-burned candles and the incessant hum of electronics in the air. It's just another place where I collapse upon getting tired.

I think it's quite telling that I barely noticed my "anniversary" yesterday. My mind was clearly elsewhere. Where, I'm not too certain. But it reminded me of this moment when I was with Carroll in her car headed to Santa Monica one day, years ago. An ex-girlfriend called, wanting to make small talk, it seemed. I brushed her off, and she hung up in a huff. It turned out that she was calling about our anniversary months after we had already broken up. And I hadn't even realized it. Of course, I'm not the type to realize it even when we're in the midst of a relationship. I take solace that I can lay the blame on being Male, and everyone will agree and accept that alibi.

I am so looking forward to moving on.