Holy fucking shit, that was a lot of rain.

It was so much rain that Matt’s kitchen ceiling was leaking this morning. After doing what I could to help Matt, he made me leave for work. Three other people were riding down in the elevator with me, and when we got to the vestibule just past the lobby, we all saw the deluge pouring down, the second coming of the Flood.

For a few moments we all just stood there, stunned.

Then I shrugged my shoulders, opened my umbrella and stepped outside. The umbrella did nothing; within a few seconds, my pants were drenched. It was so bad that instead of walking along Maiden Lane to the PATH station, I went to the closest subway station and used a Metrocard swipe so I could walk along the underground route.

The ride back to my apartment (I needed to go home, shower and change my clothes) is supposed to take seven minutes, but instead it took about 30 minutes, because one of the routes was flooded and the train needed to take a detour. I thought about going directly to my office, but I hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth and I had a meeting today and I’d gotten less than four hours of sleep last night — Matt’s phone had rung at 4 a.m., and I hadn’t been able to fall asleep after that until around 6:30.

After I got home, pulled off my sopping wet clothes, had breakfast and took a shower, I nearly had a temper tantrum because I couldn’t find a wearable pair of pants. I managed to find a pair of off-white slacks that I probably shouldn’t be wearing after Labor Day, but it’s better than nothing.

All in all it was a crappy morning, but I’m sure I’ll feel better once I have a nap.

This is highly addictive.

I’m in a bit of a funk today, for a few reasons.

First, I’m sad that the summer is unofficially over. It all went by too fast. Back in college, I looked forward to the end of the summer, because it meant I’d be seeing all my friends again. Now, though, the summer ends and nothing changes. Time just marches on.

The next point is related, which is that on September 24, I’ll reach the end of my minimum three-year commitment to my state job. In the past, I might have seen this as a good thing. All employees in my state agency have to sign a three-year contract. For a long time, I couldn’t stand working here, and I looked forward to the end of the three years. But now I’m relatively content in my job, although not particularly fulfilled, and I have no idea what else I might want to do. Now that I’m allowed to leave, I don’t know where I’d go.

Also, I haven’t been able to commit to a book lately. I keep going to bookstores and seeing books I might want to read, but I don’t actually want to spend the money or invest the time in reading them. Matt says this is why libraries are good. That’s true. But I’ve been more of a fickle reader lately, more content to read magazine articles in the New Yorker than a full-length book. I’m just not in the mood to commit to a book.

Finally — and Matt was going to blog about this but I beat him to it — I’m in the midst of making a decision. Matt has invited me to move in with him once my lease ends on November 1. We’ve been talking about it for a few months. I already spend every weekend there, and lately, one or two nights a week as well.

There would be several benefits to moving in with Matt. One: I’d be living with Matt! Two: I’d finally be living in Manhattan. Three: because of Matt’s university job, he lives in his apartment rent-free, which means that I, too, would be living RENT-FREE. I could take the $1125 a month I’m currently paying in rent and put it toward my student loans.

There are some things that give me pause, though. One, I’d have to move, and moving is such a hassle. Because Matt’s place is much smaller than my apartment, I’d have to sell some things and get rid of others. I have no idea if all my stuff would fit in Matt’s closets. Two, I *love* my apartment, in which I’ve lived for three years, and I’d miss it. Three, I have the normal moving-in-together fears. What if we get in each other’s way? What if the apartment is too small for both of us or one of us feels suffocated? What if something goes wrong between us? There are other fears: What if I regret giving up my big Jersey City brownstone apartment for a 17th-floor apartment in an elevator building? And my housing would depend on Matt’s job. What if Matt gets a new job and we have to move again?

But, I’d be living there RENT-FREE.

We’ve been together almost a year now, and I’ve never felt more compatible with someone. I love Matt. We’re planning to move in together eventually, and in a lot of ways it makes sense to do it now. I just have a natural fear of change, and I hate moving. HATE it. Driving a U-Haul makes me nervous, let alone driving one through the narrow streets of lower Manhattan. Plus it’ll be right before Election Day, which means there’ll probably be an Orange Alert and I won’t be able to drive a U-Haul through the Holland Tunnel. Well, maybe I can do it a week or two early. And then there’ll be a terror attack and I’ll be living in Manhattan.

Anyway, it’s a decision, and one that I have to make soon.