I moved into my apartment on April 21, after three hours of searching and an incredible series of poor customer service. On June 6, I was there 47 days before I fled before the rising flood water. On July 26, I finally returned, 50 days after I left. At least, I'm pretty sure of those numbers, my calendar math is only my second word form of math after time zones.
I was displaced for more days than I lived there. No wonder I had so much trouble the last few days sleeping. But, there really is no description of how wonderful I felt to finally have my apartment back. No Internet, of course, there are problems at the building and financial levels for that (apparently the landlords haven't paid their cable bill in the last 50 days for some reason and some wires need fixing). We also don't have a fire alarm. On the other hand, we do have some cute twenty-somethings running around in uniforms to look for fires, so I really can't argue.
Without the electronic brain (da Internet pipez) to feed me, I basically just slept, fretted over homework I couldn't submit (I love my teacher this time, she is so understanding), and worked on a first draft of Unspoken Violence which is due in two days for the White Wolf fan contest. I also got some reading done, sadly not the books I should read, but just comfort books to relax. And watched some movies.
In the end, I'm much happier than I have been in a while.