homeless

Not just a great song with Ladysmith Black Mambazo in Paul Simon's Graceland.

I just got evicted. I'm homeless.

OK, that's the dramatic version. The actual one: A week or so ago, I mentioned to roommate that I might be moving out June 16 or July 14 or August 4, and I wasn't sure which, but I'd give her 30 days' notice. (The wedding was expensive and I know money is tight for them now, so didn't want to surprise her.)

Anyway, so she just asked me to be out by July 1st because her parents and sister and her husband's family are all coming then. Which is reasonable, especially since I said I'd possibly be gone by then.

Of course now I'm like, "Oh! I don't want to go! I have such camping to do! I want to teach summer school and go to AB-466 training! I have too many more books to read before I pack them up again!"

But, I'm going. Unless something really compelling forces me to stay for summer school, in which case ... well, in that case I'm glad I have a good tent (and friends who might let me crash with them). It eases the homeless pain.

I got lots of packing to do. Starting with sorting out all my academic papers. Ugh - I dreaded this day, and now I have about two weekends to do it (because the others, I'm out traveling fun places such as Mammoth Lakes and Zzyzx, and being a general naturalist groupie).