It was my grandma's 95th birthday today. NINETY-FIVE. And she's every bit of a baller as she has always been. It should have been a big enough day, but something else was happening.
I was leaving Minneapolis.
Today was the day I officially signed out of my lease and moved to Rochester. I closed up shop in my Minneapolis apartment and handed over my keys to my old life. No backup. No extra apartment. Needless to say, I took it like an adult.
I cried for 55 of the 75 minutes it took me to drive to Rochester tonight. And then when I got here, I unloaded all the absolute crap from my car. Geo wasn't back yet, so I pulled in to our luxurious 2-car garage and sat at the steering wheel. Crying.
Like any full-grown woman, I unloaded my car, crying, and started just putting stuff in places thinking "This isn't where this belongs. This belongs in Minneapolis." I was literally heave-crying. And that's the ugliest kind of crying you could ever do. I pulled all my stuff up the stairs, crying because I wanted to be melodramatic about it. And when I realized no one was around to see my emotional breakdown, I cried harder.
I was already SO homesick. And the fact that Geo wasn't home yet didn't help. I cried and hauled my stuff into our house. I cried and unpacked linens into the linen closet. I cried and unpacked the accidental bag of garbage that I had collected from my old place. The memories! I was a mess.
So I cracked open a beer, took off my pants, crawled into bed and just laid there watching Law and Order: SVU while sniffing my blanket and that's when I decided that I am not equipped for adult living. My mom moved from Rhode Island to Minnesota to marry my dad, and that was before Skype. I had thought "Surely I can move 75 minutes away from home and take it like a man," but it's so much harder than I was expecting.
Geo did what he could: he got me beautiful flowers, made dinner and got us Grand Theft Auto V. He did everything the best husband in the world would do for a gal who's down, and for awhile, it was the greatest time EVER! But then, Geo went to sleep and I was left to my own devices. Night owl + homesick + being TERRIBLE at Grand Theft Auto = Pharon is a mess.
Am I telling you all this for sympathy? Perhaps. Do I know that other people have moved way further away and to worse places for love? Of course. But none of that happened TO ME. And the point here, people, is that I'm a big baby and nothing but time and constant complaining will get me through this. And probably a lot of late-night GTA.