After I picked up my butcher block kitchen cart out in West Portal on Sunday, I started home in the Jetta wagon, taking my time. Winding through the lazy western hillside of the City, through the streets that are so tucked away from everything that it almost feels like you’ve entered another town. Huge palatial mansions that don’t seem to belong. Big old boxy fake-adobe homes, curling down a hill that gives way to a remarkable view of the ocean and distant Marin.

I just followed my nose awhile, confident that getting lost would be pretty much impossible, as all roads lead somewhere familiar in this microcosmic city. I listened to the A’s post-game show; they humilated and swept yet another NL-Central team. Sure enough, I hit numbered streets again and rolled back down to Judah. It was hot and sunny and my left arm grew warm hanging out the window. I think I am getting used to being a driver again. Not so touchy on the brakes, easier on the transitions.

I went to my gym today and yesterday. It’s in a bit of a shambles due to the renovations that will carry on until August. Most of the machines I use are now crammed into half of the basketball court. It’s not as fun when I can’t stare out a window to the bay.

Tonight I must resume packing. What if I went crazy and tried to do it all tonight? Like totally finish. I guess I still need clothes through the weekend though. But I am desperate to pack the kitchen and the rest of my room. Shit, I could even take apart my bed and just sleep on my mattress on the floor…

The thought most constant in my head around the move is the freedom and space we will have. Imagine not having to cram all of my stuff into one room, being able to distribute it throughout my home. Our home! My roommate has always been one to take over, to control. She’s quite fond of touching my belongings and if she doesn’t think they belong in the living room, they end up in my bedroom. Or wherever else she thinks they “go.” And I am not talking about me leaving a mess. Anything that doesn’t fit in with her perfectly-arranged and fluffed pillows, ironed dish towels, or toilet seat cozies laundered and bleached into oblivion.

My right hip and lower back hurt today. I am on the kneeling chair but I can’t get comfortable on it. It seems that I am comfortable nowhere, except for walking or sitting on the floor. I have physical therapy tomorrow with a new therapist, and will again have to beg for an MRI. Please, someone help me. Someone tell me why this pain refuses to go away, no matter what I do.