For the first time, I called my landlady (a married couple owns and runs the building). Up to this point, I could infer things from more public means, such as the Alliant Energy or the Cedar Rapids sites. However, after the last Alliant press release, it is pretty much down to getting individual blocks. Which means calling my lord and lady and asking when I can come back.

And the answer today is... end of next week at the earliest. Looking at the calendar, I've been out of my apartment 22 days. With another week, I'll be looking at about 30 days and that is the earliest that I'll be able to get back in. I have lots to do, but my online classes start in 3 days, and I have no good Internet connection. That will be, stressful of course. I also can't seem to write. Every time I try, I just can't get into a groove. I wrote a short (15k word) story last week, which has commented well, but I'm struggling with the next one (Victim of Love, about 4-6k words).

Last night was also the point I started to change the environment to fit what I need. That is to say, moving the bed around where I need it to be instead of how my in-laws wanted it. I have been very careful to avoid this, but it finally hit a breaking point where I need my environment to be mine. Kind of like cabin fever, I guess, but it is also the start of the thing I'm was worried about: setting down roots. Its amazing how something simple, like moving the bed so the pillows don't fall off every night can really reduce stress, but it also means I'm getting comfortable where I am. It is easier to know you are moving out when you are uncomfortable. Heh, I'm so angsty, ain't I?

This weekend is not going to be a very fun weekend. I'm doing home improvement on the in-laws, putting in ceilings and probably installing drywall. FiL is in the hospital and I get to use "his" parking space while he's gone. Kind of strange, but it would be nice not to park in front of the house.