Monday evening. The first day back in the GTA (Mississauga, specifically), the first day by myself…

Before we departed on this 10-week AirBnB adventure, I’d lived in this rental room for just six weeks. I lived in three different places since then. It was indescribably bizarre to turn the handle, walk into the room – undisturbed, just as I’d left it – and turn on the light switch to find that nothing at all had changed. My stacks of books, my gaming PC’s screen still blinking in the power-saving mode, my art collection… It’s as if nothing ever happened, as if I merely stepped out and had a remarkably vivid hallucination, as if the world didn’t forever change.

It’s a little bit funny: after three different AirBnB residences and more than 10 weeks away, I can’t recall where I’d kept my things. I’ll have to spend a few hours just to rediscover my own room and see what’s what, and where, and why. On the upside, I’ve discovered that I don’t really need art, or all that many books, or a gaming PC in order to relax, enjoy life, and make the most of it. That knowledge will be useful when I decide to start my lean-FIRE…

Yesterday was crazy but not chaotic. We’d packed on Saturday night. Sunday morning was spent double-checking everything, eating a quick breakfast, and packing the car. We reached xgf’s Toronto at 1pm, dropped off everything at xgf’s new basement apartment (to keep the car empty for moving the rest of her things), and went to her old house. Things have really gone to hell there. On a typical day, the house has between 6-10 roommates. Now it’s twice as many. They chose to disregard every social distancing guidelines and started inviting their partners, their partners’ roommates, random relatives, etc. In the five hours that xgf and I were there, packing and sorting through things, we saw at least a dozen people, and heard many more. The roommates are all genders, mostly in their 20s and 30s, though at least one is in his 40s. If even 20% of Canada’s population acts that way, this pandemic will take a long time to die down.

I bought xgf’s enough groceries to last a few weeks. We finished moving everything around 9pm. Her gal pal, the owner of the basement apartment, joined us for one last dinner in the backyard before I left for good. We ate some very basic thrown-together cuisine (think American cheese slices on toast, with some tomatoes on the side), we talked, we laughed, we talked some more. Afterwards, xgf and I had one last conversation before we parted ways and became very good friends instead of apocalypse survival partners… The conversation was deep, and touching, and lovely. It’s a shame we couldn’t make it work.

And so, back to the apocalypse, but this time by myself.