I move out of the house tomorrow.
Hunky's putting me up at the local Marriott Residence Inn. He says my room is actually a suite, with a kitchenette, a living room, and a separate bedroom. There's also a daily hot breakfast buffet, and an evening reception (not sure if that's available on the weekend, though). Plus, it's right by Starbucks. Oh and PetSmart, in case I want to adopt yet another dog.
I feel very strange about the whole thing. On the one hand, I'm looking forward to some quality time with myself. Hunky is already calling it my "vacation." On the other, it seems like the end of something, and thinking about what it could be the end of scares me.
And saddens me.
I am sure I'll still be at the house now and again. It's where I'll do laundry, pick up changes of clothes, and occasionally catch up on my taped shows. But mostly, I'll be at the suite.
Hunky thinks I should take one of the cats with me. I'm still contemplating that. It would be nice to have the company, but I'd worry about the cat when I wasn't there. I don't want the maid letting it out!
So, we're just playing it by ear... we'll be checking in with each other, and going on dates. I'm not banned from the house, and if I end up needing some company, we'll just pay the pet deposit and grab one of the kitties. Still...
It's not the same as living at home, and I guess that's the point. Still... I'm sad about the whole thing.