Those days are gone.

I cut down the weeds. I didn't pull them because they would never have come up. I tried. Instead I took my hedge clippers and cut down the overgrown thistles and these huge bushes that were taller than me and sprouting beautiful sprays of leaves and black berries (blueberry-shaped; they must be poisonous or people would let them grow, like huckleberries). I almost didn't want to cut them down, but they do make the house look like nobody's done anything to the yard since spring. (Which is true, but irrelevant.) Also I picked up branches. Now the Lawn Guy can come and mow again. The weeds are in a huge pile in front of the side door. I'm planning to let them wilt, and when they're small enough to fit in a garbage bag, I'll put them in a garbage bag in the garbage can and nobody will know that I've never once gone to the yard waste recycling collection area like I'm supposed to.

The Lawn Guy will probably be making my house look presentable on Thursday, which is too bad as I'm meeting with The Agent tomorrow at the house. I'm selling it. I'm quitting my job and moving to Toledo. I'm hoping to have a job there before I go (since that'll make it easier to find a place to live), but if the house has sold by the end of October, I'm leaving regardless. As M pointed out--and as I knew--as everyone I've been talking to knew--I haven't been happy with my job or my city for quite a while, and I have nothing really to keep me here and several reasons to go elsewhere. I'm not a risk-taker, which is why I haven't done this before, but then again maybe the chance of moving without a job will spur me into getting something--anything. I'm not going to be too picky. I need a living wage (which is not very high in Toledo, apparently) and a job where they won't ask me to devote my entire life to it. That's all. (And actually I do have some money to rely on for a few months, assuming I don't lose very much with the house. At first I was thinking longingly of not working during November and December and getting a job in January. Two months of doing whatever I want? Bliss. But I need a job to get an apartment or a mortgage. And if I go back to school I'll need money saved up.)

So I'm going to be looking at the Sunday ads this weekend (we're going to the gem show) and doing whatever The Agent says I need to in order to get the house sold and house-hunting and giving whatever clutter I have to Goodwill and contemplating the lovely thought of walking into work on my very last day, and the even lovelier (if scary) thought of walking out of it.

Oh, and I'm going to be dealing with my insurance company. Eric and I were in the Office Depot parking lot. I started the car, looked in the rearview mirror--a green truck had just pulled into a space a slot or two down on the opposite side, but otherwise all was clear--and pulled out. I put my hand out to shift into gear and heard a crunch. The green truck had backed out into my left rear door. We all got out and the driver of the green truck said, "I don't think I'm at fault here." He said it several times. The first time I said, "I know, your insurance company tells you to say that," but afterwards I just ignored him. The police officer he insisted on summoning (Eric called and was told that the police can't file a report or make a citation on private property, only mediate the exchange of information) tactfully told him he was, indeed, at fault, while I muttered aside, "Yeah, I hit him good with the side of my car." We filed a claim on the insurance website that day. They say they'll get back to me within one business day, so tomorrow I start pestering them.

I finished the Tivoli shirt, but the shoulders are too big. It's knit from the top down, so this is problematic. I also finally painted the inside of my bathroom drawers--now that I've decided to leave; figures--and started some Fuzzy Feet, which is just another reason to leave the house, since I've got hardwood floors and slippers are just not the best things for me to wear on hardwood floors. I slipped in the basement again, trying to finally clean up the paint that caused me to slip the first time. I'll get it done though. Soon, too, looks like.