Counting Days

I just want to fucking move already.

I've been waiting for this apartment for six months now, and I'm still not even certain when I'll actually move in. The landlord is allegedly getting closer to obtaining a certificate of occupancy, but I'm cautiously attempting to minimize any excitement because I've only found myself severely dissapointed thus far.

Living in my parents' house was supposed to be temporary, but it is hoenstly feeling more and more permanent as time goes on. Each day that passes brings mixed emotion, whether it be anxiety, anger, excitement, regret, denial, acceptance, or depression (which happens to be the most popular one as of late). I'm trying to tell myself that this is just a minor detour in my new life, albeit a long, emotionally-straining one. Ugh.