First weekend living at my new apartment
Day 1: Saturday, September 22nd, 2018
It's Saturday night, and all the lovers have come out to play.
I step out of my apartment unit after spending all of 6 hours unpacking from 4 to 10:15 p.m. I see that the apartment complex is buzzing with life.
Some kid in his apartment is wearing a headset, playing video games while his little brother plays them on the big screen in the living room.
As I make my way to my mom's car, I see a couple strolling by holding hands.
I see another man and woman talking on a front porch, while a party goes on inside the apartment. The woman, in her late 30s I imagine, is wearing denim short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top, and is desperately (but trying to be nonchalant about it) chatting up a shorter guy. She looks about past 35 but obviously trying to land man. I can smell her perfume waft over to me as I walk by.
I get into my car and start heading back, I see another couple hugging and embracing each other in the middle of the neighbor street, neither one wanting to be the first to let go. His ride is stopped next to them, car running, waiting for him.
I see a another young woman, dressed in a black clubbing outfit with long brown hair straightened and smokey makeup done, looking tiredly as she walks through the parked cars in the sidewalk, although it is way too early for her to have called it a night. I wonder what her story is.
I drive my mom's car back to her house. I arrived and we spend the next hour-and-a-half prepping the house to be fumigated, as she used to spend the night with me. We both love meant that we have "way too much stuff." Amen to that.
I have every intention of rectifying that once I get everything inside my apartment and start purging the stuff I don't need. One thing turns into the next thing which turns into the next thing and all of a sudden it's almost 11:30, we are both running on flumes at this point, having both had busy days cleaning and housework, etc. The adrenaline of the day keeps me going.
Like going to an airport or traveling with little sleep, it feels like I'm going on a trip, full suitcase and everything. In fact, I decide to take my suitcase, the one I had been living out of at my mom's house. I tell her I decided I'm moving, full-stop, today. She is a bit taken aback, no surprised, by my declaration but is fully supported once I make it. Go for it!
It does feel like a trip to the airport, or to a hotel and some Faraway land, me with my suitcase, her with her overnight bag. We "land" the Highlander in the parking lot and unload our goods. Mom makes a bed for herself, with a bedsheet and everything on my couch.
I make my bed, figure out we really need a nightlight, and try to settle in.
We both can't sleep. I am restless, with tired energy. This is my home now, my new domain. I circle the inside of the apartment, checking everything being where it is supposed to go.
I go visit her art the couch, and we pray to God, a prayer of thanksgiving, asking for everyone's good health and luck, and try to settle into sleep.
My bed is slippery. No, really, my matress wants me to slide right off.
I think that it must be the Walmart matress cover that's slipping and sliding underneath me, but no, I remove that. The matress is itself is slippery.
The only way not to feel like I am sliding off the bed is to sleep in the smack-dab middle. This should be interesting for I have to sleep with Chris.
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