Waiting

Closet optimist though I may be, it seems quite often that I find myself in this position--waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I've been back in NYC for roughly 4 days now.  The first was spent feverishly cleaning my apartment--which was absolutely filthy--and taking care of various other lovely chores such as buying a pair of clippers to shave off half of my cat's coat, which was so incredibly matted that it rendered all other options impossible.  Late that evening, Froggy-Clause dropped off "I'm Sorry" presents on the doorsteps on my landlord and my downstairs neighbors, hoping to smooth things over.

The second two days were spent with my parents--respectively getting drunk (after buying me a new vacuum--mine committed suicide in spectacular fashion whilst trying to rescue my rugs from the aftermath of Hurricane CFL) and recovering from the resultant hangover.

At the tail end of day 2 of Parental Visitation, while I was ushering them into a car service car to get them back to their hotel, I ran into my landlords on the steps.  They were rushing inside with some sort of food, and the wife--with whom all of my communication while abroad took place--said simply "Hi, welcome back, we'll talk later," while the husband added "Hi, happy holiday weekend!" before following her inside.  That was the extent of our communication since my return.

And now I sit here, awaiting that very "later" like the Sword of Damocles, or Edgar Allan Poe's Pendulum.  I have no idea what this conversation will entail--will she simply fill me in on the remainder of CFL's outrageous behavior?  Raise my rent as a penalty?  Inform me that they're now kicking me out as well?  I cannot keep these fears from racing through my head with such rapidity that my strongest instinct is simply to hide.  Hey, if she can't find me, she can't kick me out... right?

I wish I could just calm down, but each time I discover a new piece of debris from this train wreck--all of my towels put away in the bathroom and absolutely filthy... like with stuff crusted on them--my fear of the final windfall increases ten-fold.

I have the distinct feeling that life is hiding behind a corner, just waiting to chew me up and spit me out.  I guess there's nothing for it except simply to wait and see...