I’ve been working on a piece regarding Hulu’s series “The Handmaid’s Tale” for over a week, trying to make it right. This is not that post.
We’ve been living in the same tiny apartment for a decade. It served us well for the first few years, when it was just us & one cat. But really, it’s tiny for two adults & no matter how much we enjoy each other’s company, we’re always on top of each other. Add a heaping handful of cats, and it’s become downright tight. Let alone having anyone visit. Then it’s simply claustrophobic. At the annual lease signing, our landlord would remark that he couldn’t believe we were staying another year.
While we’ve managed pretty well, a joking query to a friend of Chris’ has led us to greener pastures. Literally. There’s a lawn. And trees. And a backyard. For nearly the same rent as our barrier island abode, we’re moving to a legit house off the island on 8/1. A free standing house. No “shared wall” neighbors. I am beside myself, in the best way.
Six weeks. We have to pack up our lives in six weeks, in the height of “the season”. It’s a somewhat daunting task.
I poked my head into my tiny office last night, flipped on the light, and groaned. While pretty good with purging junk & unnecessary items annually, but I’m a bit overwhelmed. How much craft paper & supplies do I need? (All of it, clearly) How much ephemera is stored in cube shelves? (All of it, clearly) Did I mention it’s a daunting task, the packing?
But the end result, though. We’ve been in desperate need of a fresh start for quite some time. Our current apartment has been our home: with party lights & laughter, with tears & loss, with the “John Bonham solo” of scrambling cat feet. You know, the things that make life…life.
I’m naturally prone to nostalgic sappiness, and no doubt I’ll shed some tears during this process. Probably more out of frustration, anxiety & uncertainty than true sadness. Because truly there won’t be much to miss about this apartment, aside from our walks to the beach or back bay, which have been some of my happiest moments in recent years & lent themselves to nice photos. And the familiarity. For all of it’s summer frustrations, the Wildwoods have been an interesting place to reside.
But here’s to new routines, new commutes, new shin bruises due to new furniture arrangements. Like the Jeffersons, we’re moving on up (the road).