February 12, 1999
Off to Oakland
I woke up around 2:30 a.m. and my brain started running around like crazy, and suddenly hit on the fact that I hadn't packed my charcter notebook. It came from filling the pens before flying, to my notebooks, to the fact that I had all my Circa notebooks and then went to 'isn't there another notebook?... Oh, Shit.'
Yes. I was damned sure that the notebook was packed in some box. I put on a robe, closed the door to the bedroon, then frantically searched every inch of the diningroom and living room and then started staring at boxes blearily, as I didn't have my contacts in. I didn't want to get into the mountains of boxes John had put up, but I finally had to, as I got to a box that was labelled 'extra book shelves', as there were a set of extra, temporary bookshelves we'd put up when I'd filled every available inch of bookshelf we had. And since the most recent stuff I'd been working with had mostly been my gaming books it was likely that they were there.
So I wrestled coolers, boxes of extra china, Christmas ornaments, a bridal veil, and other stuff out of the way of That Box. I opened it and John had packed all the books lying down, which is likely the most clever way to fit more books into a box, but it was entirely frustrating for trying to see what was in it. So I had to unpack the box, book by book. I found my Steel and Lace, my angels dictionary, and one of my In Nomine source books and I got really, really hopeful. But then I hit the bottom of the box and the notebook was nowhere to be found.
I... hm... at that point I just threw a complete tantrum in the downstairs bathroom, by myself. Just tossed all my rage and all the rage I had with all the changes and all the things I was so used to doing with my life and how it was all changing and all that fear and hate and rage cascaded out into a crying tantrum.
I have to admit it felt good to let it all loose and bother nobody. Just scream and rage and stamp my feet and cry until I couldn't cry any more and reason got a foothold again. Then, more quietly, I went upstairs, knowing that I just wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep without finding it, and woke up John to ask him where he'd packed my notebook. About half a dozen boxes, and half an hour later, he found it in a drawer he'd put it in to make sure it didn't get packed. He'd remembered, thought it through, and tried to make it easier for me to get at the things I needed, which I appreciated greatly after he did find it.
I mean, really, he *did* think about what I needed when he packed things. I just hadn't known it, and giving him the benefit of his good intentions is a good thing, all in all, and I had my notebook of charcters, the ones that I'd built with the Horde and would likely play a few of them with the Horde in the coming few days.
It took a little while to get back to sleep, but we did, and then I slept and had dreams, but good ones, and when I woke up when the alarm went off at 7, I felt better than the previous day, if not up to my full capacity.
Quick shower, then to Victor's, then to work, and I'm doing reasonably well. We get to leave in about fifteen minutes, and when I get back, I'll fill in the rest of the Boulder experience.