Yesterday, the television people called me and said they didn't need to film me. But they did need me to unpack some of the books and paintings and decorative-thingies I'd already packed and put them out, to create the illusion that we hadn't been packing and that we lived there all normal and non-packing-like. So I did, and cleaned a lot, and then got the hell out of there for a few hours. But I did get to briefly meet the extraordinarily brawny and ruddy Roger Hazard, who is designing our house. Zack the dog met him too, and did exactly what he does with everyone he meets: he sniffed Roger's knees and then stared up at him for a while. Tomorrow they film me, and I've been told they're going to try and gin up some conflict b/t me and Roger. I know how to fake-cry, so I intend to use that skill if necessary.
Today's a strange day. I feel a little like a kid before Christmas, but I also feel some dread and kind of groundless. For the next four days, I'm staying at a friend's. Last night was my last night in that wonderful, dumpy apartment we loved so much. Aa spent his last night there before leaving for tour without even really realizing it. And since the television is packing and moving us, I have no sense of closure or anything at our apartment. It's a weird sort of limbo I'm in today.
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