One last F_You.
Like a rejected lover, Brooklyn made sure to say his own set of “f-you’s”, today, as it is my last day in Borough.
“You don’t want me anymore. Fine.” He stated, unemotionally, while passive aggressively making my life as difficult as possible.
There was the last romantic walk down 7th avenue one more time for my morning ice latte and croissant. Neither of which were remotely as good as I am use to.
Walking home, my dog was nearly jumped by a rottweiler, whose owner, a cantankerous old man, proceeded to yell at me for over-reacting to his dog’s behavior.
I couldn’t find my car, or remember where I had parked it the day before. Secretly I think Brooklyn moved it to waste yet another hour of my time.
I am running on empty and running against the clock, as the painting, cleaning, and packing are still not done in my apartment. Every time I settled down to focus on yet another undone chore, I find that I still to not have all the tools I need to complete the job. Nothing is getting done.
Then my blackberry was lost at a U-haul store. When I returned to retrieve it, the sales clerk proceeded to tell me that he had never found it. Although, I know that was where I left it. My blackberry along with all of my personal information is probably being sold on Fulton Street as I write this entry.
Brooklyn knows I live and breathe by my blackberry, and thought of all of the countless people who will be calling me to coordinate this move tomorrow would send me into a spiraling panic. He wanted me cut off from the world, but he failed to grab my lifeline. I plunked down my credit card, and $500 dollars and two hours later, walked out of the cell phone store with a new one.
Secretly, he was grinning. I know it.
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