I decided to add mulch to the old not-actually-flower beds in front of my house that were now mostly dirt, old bark, weeds, and a sprinkling of cat poop. I walked into the closest big box store nursery section and asked the stocker to point me to the mulch section.
“It’s back in that corner. Or I have a few bags up here on clearance for a dollar-fifty,” he said.
“Sold!” I replied. There were three bags of red mulch sitting on a cart, exactly the number I needed in a red color that was just fine, marked down because of holes in the bag. A few minutes later and my house looked much nicer.
My new kitchen is smaller than my apartment kitchen, with less storage and unusable counters tucked in corners and cabinets that are suited for somebody 6’2″ and not 5’2″. Also, there’s not a single cupboard large enough to hold a cookie sheet, and no there’s not a drawer under the oven.
There is a wide ledge outside the kitchen window, which looks onto the large patio and backyard, so that part is cool.
This paper towel holder helps my kitchen feel closer to completion.
I submitted a Resident Intent to Vacate form. I gave notice that I will be moving out when my lease ends August 31 instead of renewing, after more than five years in this apartment. I want to live in a small rental house with a yard and space for a small raised bed garden in the sun and, if I should be so lucky, a dog door already installed. Still in the same city and even the same general area, ideally a couple miles closer to my office.
I don’t have a place lined up yet, I’m counting on The Universe coming through for me. If the weeks have ticked by and there’s no house for me I’ll get an apartment, and I’ll experience the fun of new carpets and layouts and neighborhoods and routines (where will I do my grocery shopping??) and it will be Okay.
It was a spontaneous decision. I received my reminder and rent renewal offer and was disappointed to see rent increased again. Two weeks passed. Then I thought, “Wait, what if I don’t re-sign???”
The last time I looked for a new place a 5 1/2 year relationship had just ended. He moved into the spare room and I started my apartment search. The atmosphere in the house was civil and embarrassed, like a doctor’s waiting room where you see somebody from work flipping through a magazine. You nod politely and wish they weren’t there — your mind drifts to possible reasons for their visit and you don’t want to think about it, why are you even imagining that, what’s wrong with your brain? It’s uncomfortable even though nobody is doing anything wrong, and you’re relieved when they’re out of sight.
This time around I’m moving for the fun of it and I’m excited.