So we've moved. It was better this time. Last time, five years ago, we were being stalked by K's mother. I distinctly remember one instance in which I was carrying a large heavy box of books and L walked by nonchalantly as though it were simply happenstance that we met on the street as I was carrying a moving box out of our building. She inquired very politely about K. I responded kindly and gently that she was fine and not home. She was but I wasn't going to tell L that. Not a mention was made of the sleeping on the porch a few days before, the screaming outside the door, the neighbor who was attacked. Nope not one mention. It was so polite as though we were neighbors and she was simply being neighborly.
I was much more on top of this one. It has been arduous & has taken at least 48 hours more than I had planned. I have bruises all over my body. My muscles are sore and I really should be asleep at this hour. But all in all it was one of the best moves I've managed in my life. Today as I was carrying a particularly precariously balanced muddy mail bag of automotive jacks I found myself hard pressed to think of another place I've lived as long as we've lived in Santa Monica. We lived in the dearly departed apartment for 5 years and two months. All in all I've been a resident of Santa Monica for 8 years. I started living in Santa Monica in 1997 as a homeless person. I left in 2005 with my head held high, a good job with a great company, a thriving daughter and deepening ties to the community.
I think I'm going to really love Venice as, at first blush, it is more my speed. But it gives me great pain that we were ultimately forced out of Santa Monica. So it goes. It was a good run.