Unpacking my baggage

I finally got my stuff yesterday.  I was starting to feel lost without it.  So much for being a minimalist.  The cats missed it too.  They were restless and whiny, and really wanted to go out since they were bored in the house.  I felt a little better once I borrowed an air mattress and got internet access from my neighbors, but I still felt discombobulated.
The movers showed up around  7 PM.  They were unloading until almost 11.  They were Russian, and looked like brothers.  One was cute and flirty.  He did the heavy lifting, but the other, skinnier one seemed to do a lot more work overall.  They certainly bickered like brothers. It's good I don't understand Russian.  Anyway, when they were done I went upstairs with the intention of making my bed.  I lay down for a few minutes, and it felt so good to be in my own bed I fell asleep instantly. 
The last week has been a whirlwind.  I've been leaving the house at 8 and coming home at 8 or later.  It's not all work. One night I got home around 9 and went out to get the mail.  My neighbors were drinking in the street, so I went to go talk to them.  One of them offered the use of his air mattress, and went up to his house to go get it while I hung out with the people across the street. The power went off, so we continued to drink and talk until midnight.  Tonight there was a block party.  They are a very friendly bunch.
I started unpacking today.  I made pretty good headway.  So far, the only thing that broke/leaked was something I packed myself, and it got thrown in at the last minute with less care than usual.  Everything that the movers packed survived fine, including my vase collection.   
Since I've been busy, I haven't thought about T as much as usual.  This is a good thing.  I wonder how much faster I would've gotten over him if the shit hadn't gone down at work.  Having had too much free time certainly didn't help, either. He was lurking on IM, but since I was busy and I need to set a good example for the grad students, I didn't IM him.  For some reason, I thought of him a lot as I was unpacking my kitchen, since that was a brainless enough activity that I could let my mind wander.  It's been so nice not to be brooding about T, so my mood was largely "F*&# T!  I should just ignore him when he IM's or calls and just phase him out of my life"  So of course he called.  I was upstairs and didn't hear the phone.  I got the message later. I went to the block party and didn't call him back.  Perhaps I'll call him tomorrow, perhaps I won't. A whole year has passed since things went bad.  I am 3000 miles away, both figuratively and literally.