Friday, May 26, 2006

Move to the Music

I might possibly have found a place to live--I put in an application today, anyway. It's in the building I described a couple of posts ago, with the indoor laundry and elevator and so on. The building is U-shaped, with the U facing east (which is the lake); I'm at the top corner of the U, facing south. On one hand, being there means I face the courtyard (except for some lake from the bedroom window), and therefore my neighbors, but I'll be on the 7th floor (of 9), so I should get a fair amount of light. The place is a godawful pit right now (including old food in the fridge), but they'll clean it up. Part of my brain kept thinking that I should Keep Looking! Because there's a Perfect Place out there somewhere, and for less money! But fuck that. It has a gas stove, a big kitchen, a big dining area, hardwood floors (except in the bedroom), lots of closets and built-in drawers and shelves, a window in the bathtub, it faces south, and it has an indoor laundry room. Oh, and it will cut a half hour off my commute in the morning, and it's three blocks from the lake. Thanks to the day I spent wandering from hither to yon and back again, I know that there's a lot worse to be had for the same price in the same neighborhood, and I really (really, really, really) do not have the energy to expand the search to some other (theoretically) More Perfect neighborhood.

On Sunday, J is going to meet me, with her car, and we're going to pick up boxes from the Brazen Tart, then head to Whole Paycheck and then come back here so J can drink wine and watch me pack. I've started formulating a Packing Plan (yes, I know, you're shocked that I'd have a plan or a system of some kind), and now I just have to execute the plan. A yoga friend may also drop off more boxes on Monday, so I can just pack to my heart's content. Woo-fucking-hoo.

My aim is to get out of here by mid-June, if possible; I think Sunday the 18th would be a fine day to move, especially since that gives me Monday to unpack. (I'm capable of being sufficiently organized such that I could probably have 80% of the unpacking done by Monday night if I worked at it. We'll see whether I can actually do that.) That also has the effect of having me NOT moving on our first anniversary. I really wanted to avoid that, though D doesn't seem to mind so much. I saw him and the Kid tonight for the first time in a couple of weeks. It was great to see the Kid, and to see D, for that matter; we have things to discuss that can't really be discussed in front of the Kid, but it was a nice dinner and I'm really glad we did it.

Meanwhile, I'm rather exhausted. I like getting the overtime pay in my paycheck, for sure, but working the hours is draining. My back feels something like a 2x8, except without the flexibility of a board. And this weekend is going to be a festival of chores: the apartment is, once again, one of the circles of hell, in terms of neatness and cleanliness (even I, with my nearsightedness, can see the crud in the tub), and I have laundry. And packing. Did I mention the packing?

All those fine thoughts of going through my possessions and weeding things out . . . well, let's just say that expediency is going to be the watchword here, rather than thoroughness. Years of living in small apartments (rather than, say, a house) helped me curb whatever packrat tendencies I might have had--hell, if I suddenly bought a house, I wouldn't be able to fill it with what I own. (I find that thought depressing sometimes.) I keep thinking I should be working on my Master Plan, my Long Term Goals, or whatthefuckever, but then I remind myself that I have a lot of chores to do in the next six weeks, and those have to take priority. I have limited time and energy--I can't steal 15 minutes while at work to deal with the cable company, for example--and I have to focus on the necessary. And did I mention the packing? My yoga teacher suggested deep breathing while I pack--and some rock and roll on the stereo. She knows whereof she speaks.


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