It can’t be sunshine and roses all the time. Of course being the new guy brings with it some stresses and changes in relationships. Things get trickier and harder and in some cases, unnecessarily dramatic. In short, it becomes a lot more like home. This right now, is that. To know you’re loved and by whom is key, and I do. To know who to look at perhaps a little more sideways that I had been, is also key. Know when to pick a battle, as mom would say. Being the new guy is hard and I haven’t been the new guy in a new place since 1997 and there, no one knew me so it was a completely fresh start. Here, it’s hard. Important, but hard. Frankly, up until now it had felt suspiciously easy so this is a little expected.
A bright spot: I found an apartment two weeks ago and I move in tomorrow. It’s got two bedrooms! Two! Sorry, let me back up… when I was in the fifth grade when other girls giggled about boys or played with baby dolls, I doodled blueprints of my someday apartment. Two bedrooms, a big kitchen, a welcoming entryway, a yard for a garden. The wall colors and furniture preferences changed, naturally, but the design was always the same. One bedroom for me and one bedroom for guests. Having guests, having a table for people to sit at and a coffee maker at the ready has been a consistent factor in apartment hunts since I first began hunting. Eventually that second bedroom also became a place for an easel, for my sewing machine, maybe a modest-sized TV while I’m in there working… but first and foremost, a bed for guests. And now, it’s real. I can paint the walls. Sew window treatments. Put down area rugs. My first grown up apartment. My bed doesn’t have to be along the wall because the master is big enough to allow for tables on both sides. I can have a bench seat at the foot of the Queen sized bed I’m going to be able to buy. All these things are combining to make for a real new life (so it’s only appropriate that a little bad would happen alongside the good, right?). The yard gets full southwest sunshine, I can have that garden. I can begin cooking again. And just in time for Christmas! Believe me when I tell you that when I walked into the front room, I checked the corners for the best spot for a tree and for outlets.
Pictures to follow but in the meantime a very empty and echo-y apartment to call my own. Tomorrow and the day after will be full of music, unpacking boxes and the occasional piroettes around the room.