Kathy the Broker

Kathy the broker visited the Fortress of Solitude 2.0 Tuesday afternoon. Took a look at the chaos of the place and said, "We're not going to show anyone this place until you're out."

That's completely fine with me.

Mid/late-40s, a bit of a space cadet, just as I remember her. Spoke really slowly and tended to ramble, as if she were drugged up.

"How old are you-- 24?"

"I'm 33."

"Really...? You look amazing... Well, you just gotta get rid of all this stuff, Malice! You don't wanna take it to your new place..."

She went on to give me a lot of unsolicited advice. Turns out the "Russian Super" I've talked about all these years is actually a Polish super. Kathy the broker suggested I offer his wife $50 and have her help me get organized. As if that were going to happen.

All that aside, the place is coming together. (Or coming apart.) May not be apparent to an outsider, but I can see the moves to the end. And the end is coming on fast. Just a hair over two weeks, it's daunting...

Dismantled and took down an IKEA bookshelf this mourning. One less thing to deal with. Some more trips to the Salvation Army ahead.

I know it's time to leave here. I just wish I had a better sense of where I'm heading...