I was woken repeatedly by his grumpy cat throughout the night since its owner locked his cat out of his bedroom at night for this very reason.
Early in the morning, my Former Friend strode into the living room, issuing a command of “up and at ‘em”.
Every so often, my Former Friend would come out and ask if he could throw things away, such as a French coffee press that merely needed cleaning. I found his continued devaluing of my possessions interesting.
The previous year, on a visit to his place, I found it to be in a state of extreme clutter.
Nothing he could do or say, no matter how miserable his mood, could deter me from my task that day, to get what was left of my possessions into my new home and start the long process of getting my life back.
After the movers deposited the beautiful and expensive pine armoire that I was giving my Former Friend as a gift of thanks at his apartment, for which he never thanked me, and piled what was left of my possessions into my small bachelor apartment, I asked him if he could help get my kitchen unpacked while I worked on getting my bathroom organized.
Discarded magazines were piled haphazardly in a corner, bookshelves were packed tight against every wall, and there were stacks of books and papers everywhere.
My other former friend also urged me to give away things that he deemed not useful to me. He, like my Former Friend, always had the latest in computers and other tech items as well as very comfortable home furnishings.
My Former Friend had begrudgingly agreed to let me stay at his apartment.
I found it strange that he had not offered this, let alone his being very reluctant to allow me one night’s accommodation.
Some staff came to say good-bye, including Maria, the ersatz cleaning lady, who seemed surprised when I gave her a quick hug.
Earlier, Beverly had wished me all the best and God-speed.