So according to my incredible foresight thanks to a recurring universe, I predicted that the power supply would last me until the move was completed. And I was right. I couldn't turn my computer back on at the new place.
It's been a week and a half since you all heard from me, but for me it felt like it was much longer. Like months. It was mind numbing.
So yeah, the move was completed, and I just finished reassembling my computer with the new power supply humming quietly inside the steel chassis. While I'm sitting here, the identity known as Lost is flowing back into me.
I didn't realize until a few days ago that there is a massive dichotomy between the two personalities of my real life and internet life. So much so I'm wondering if it's a legitimate split personality. Last night, I sat on the other side of my room playing San Andreas, and I turned over here to my computer and thought about that. Lost is very strongly connected to the internet, and I'm his channel. When I was separated from being able to write and draw (partly on the latter, I'll get to that in a bit.), Lost thrashed around mentally before I felt a strange sensation. A sensation of calm. Lost calmed down, and I felt like I wasn't connected to him. I couldn't feel the presence of Lost. I have all his thoughts and memories, but I don't remember him specifically. Now that I'm back on the internet, I can slowly feel him stirring in my mind, preparing to make a violent return. He hasn't been able to write or (mostly) draw the past week and a half. He's probably very cranky. So I might as well talk about my real self now before Lost comes back and takes over.
Two Saturdays ago, we finally moved all the big stuff. It took one trip and an hour and a half to get everything in the moving van. The unloading time took less than 45 minutes. It took me one sit-through of Star Wars: A New Hope and half of Star Trek '09 to assemble my room and fix one of my book cases. Pretty damn easy when most of your belongings are video games and books. Everything is stacked so cleanly and nicely in my bookcases.
The walls are thicker and filled to the tits with asbestos (maybe). Sound doesn't carry through the walls so easily. There's also a Jack n' Jill bathroom connected to my room, and the toilet/shower room is pretty damn small. Fortunately, I'm pretty thin, so it's not that big of an issue.
We got a bunch of new furniture and appliances. Everyone loves the new fridge and its water dispenser. We'll save a lot of money on bottled water now! We need to replace the dish washer, maybe, but in the meantime, we're just hand washing everything.
The new washer and dryer are nice, but a little difficult to get used to. The washer is one of those high efficiency ones, and it takes a while to calculate shit inside the load. The dryer is also sentient, and dries clothes at a different pace.
Where we live is extremely hot. Not much to say about it. It's just really fucking hot.
Actually, there is something to say about it. The other day, I took the trash out at night and found the regular trash bin covered in maggots on the inside. The rotting meat caused it. So we're gonna have to double bag rotten meat trash to prevent that shit from happening again.
Don't know what else to add, so I'll just end this journal here.
Oh wait no! I have to tell you about the drawing thing! So I was clearing out old shit in my closet before the move, and I found a sketchbook that was a bit dinged up but unused. So I started drawing in it. I'll try scanning in the pictures sometime soon.
That should be it. I'll add in other things when I can think of them.
EDIT: I remembered this right after I woke up this morning. Yesterday, my stepdad's stepdad died early in the morning. He had some heart complications and got tired of the treatment and refused to continue with it. He lived for a few days longer before dying. I didn't know him that well, so I'm not as emotionally impacted by it.