Funny how I miss blogging the most when I absolutely cannot do it.
Sitting here over a belated dinner of cold pizza and Cruzan Jumbie Brew at my meticulously cleaned and reorganized desktop, I suspect that ours was the smoothest move in the history of University City.
We discovered on Sunday that the previous tenants in our new apartment had moved out a day early, meaning we would have full access to our new home on Monday, a day earlier than we had planned. Monday was originally meant to be a day of packing – topping off boxes and putting them into the truck, with the brunt of the assault on the new apartment coming on Tuesday morning while I did shuttle-runs to campus to attend class.
Instead, Elise had her entire apartment packed into the truck and moved into our new home before I could even get to taking apart my desk. Moving the majority of my massive pile of belongings into the truck took only an hour and twenty minutes, and unloading less than a third of that. This largely owed to the fact that we have some of the best friends in the world. Ten of them, at various points in the day, not to mention several calls we received from other friends, who we sadly turned away, as we were already done.
It was unstressful, though I managed to hurt myself by powerlifting the wrong air conditioner. There were even highlights… the cheer that went up from our movers when I said I would cater their alchoholic needs after Elise offered to buy lunch… Craig and I serenading Kate with PDQ Bach’s “How Many Psychiatrists” after she jinxed herself into breaking a lightbulb… a hilarious but quite poignant conversation about the apocalyptic move that left Lindsay, Erika, and I as roommates, and how Lindsay flew to New York but could not come back, how all of the cars pulled over to the side of the road as she drove to the airport, listening to their radios, and how Jack and I huddled around the television, searching for clues.
Moving is changing – changing your environment, which can sometimes change yourself. I already feel different, without a stack of toiletries on my desk and guitars on my bed. I feel, finally, like everything in my life really does have a place.
Including me.
