I turn in the keys to my apartment today. If you listen carefully, sometime around noon Central Time, you’ll hear a gigantic sigh of relief.
“Doesn’t it make you a little bit sad?”
The Dork Lord and I were sitting cross-legged on piles of mechanical drawings on the newly shampooed carpets, stuffing our over-tired faces with sub sandwiches. I was too hungry to answer, so I shook my head.
“Really?” He looked around at the walls, two coats of bland white primer now masking the bright kiwi green of the dining room. “I’m always a little sad when I leave somewhere I’ve lived. I mean, I’m excited about the new place…”
“I think I went through that in stages,” I said finally, wiping tomato juice from my chin with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I haven’t lived here in months. Now it’s like a place I come to do chores. Good riddance.”
It was true. The packing and moving (an event for which our movers showed up twenty-four hours late) and then the cleaning and scrubbing – if anything it’s made me resentful. Not wistful. Besides, I’ve been calling his place “our place” long enough now that I don’t really have much of an attachment my soon to be ex-apartment. At least, not any more. There were moments it was tough (you remember the pillow incident). And the things I do miss are only gone temporarily. Like, color on the walls, my big, squishy microfiber couches, a television that tunes in to non-sports channels, maybe even a little autonomy – things I will have again when we transfer apartments in six weeks. So really, it’s just like I’m on an extra long camping trip in Boyland (where the decorating scheme is German Shepherd).
The transition is nearly complete. My mattress has even been given away. And I’m totally not nervous. Because if the Boy turns me out on the street, I’ve always got an Aerobed in the trunk.
Yes, the physical part of “the move” is the worst but it seems that you’re about to embark on yet another wonderous adventure!
Too cool. Good luck! I’m excited for you…for both of you.
I love how our lives are suddenly parallel with the Big Changes. xo
Aerobed! Love it. I am making this big move soon too…but mine involves house selling and moving across state lines…
My upstairs is decorated in eclectic modern feline (I have 4); downstairs is full on traditional St. Bernard; close to German Shepherd but with a drooly Swiss element entirely lacking in the more structured Bauhausiness of German Shepherd.
You should probably change the title of your blog…it’s not so fun to read anymore that you’re all blissful and crap.
Ugh! Rude!!
How about Anonymous, you just stop reading this particular blog. YOU bring me down.
(Sorry, Fish! I couldn’t resist!)
Sour grapes, Anonymous? Let Fish ride off into the sunset on her bicycle. I’ll read what she writes single or taken. Both states are interesting because of her grace and humor.
Sorry, Heather, but I’m a little confused. You moved into The Boy’s apartment, right? So, what does “things I will have again when we transfer apartments in six weeks” mean? You are moving again? Together? PS: Love your blog…and I’m thrilled that you found what I hope I do someday.
mmmm, Dandylions… People say they are weeds, but really, a whole sea of them on the farm, rippling in the wind? How is that not the most beautiful sight ever after a long cold winter?
Many happy sunsets for you and your boy, and that puppy dog.
Ha – Read this after finishing chores at “my place”. I move in 4 weeks and am having the same feelings about leaving my current apartment. My boy’s decorating scheme can only be described in one word…brown.
OMG Jo, YES! Aside from the black leather couches, everything (and I mean everything) is a shade of brown. I assume it was so the dog hair would not be such an issue, but my god, it’s hilarious.
Makes me a little sad, but I’m happy for you.
Don’t be sad, Bob. I still have your cooler and I promise to bring it back!
As someone who is about to move, I can relate. However, my move doesn’t involve a Dork Lord but that’s okay.
Anonymous, thank you for giving me an opportunity to use this line: Haters to the left.
I agree wholeheartedly with you. Coming from someone who’s had to move many a time, (due to the military), I always found myself excited to see the new place instead of sad to see the old place go. (And by the time we got done cleaning the old place, I was sick of it, anyway!)
I agree with the dandelions, too. I don’t see how they can be a weed. They have color and they bloom.
You said it, Amy. Single or taken, Fish can write about anything and make it a fun read.
Um, that’s not a dandelion. Unless American dandelions are different than Canadian dandelions? Isn’t it some sort of chrysanthemum?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dandelion
I sit corrected