Ever since the move, things have been pretty busy, to say the least. Between all the unpacking, resolving of the old apartment, clearing out my storage unit, and doing stuff in the new place like painting and organizing, and on top of it all, planning and preparing for mythical gf’s birthday party, I began to make a joke about how I was going to work so I could relax. While at work, I could sit down, not be doing physical activities (except for going to the gym) and actually be somewhat dormant. In my downtime, I could actually write a little bit.
But then work got busy, and I didn’t have time to write, and the workload at home didn’t relent, so I couldn’t really find time to write there either.
Fortunately, the party has come and gone, very nicely I might add, and suddenly the rush and the urgency in which things needed to be done, came to a screeching halt. Whereas I’ve been working my ass off for the last three weeks and change, suddenly I don’t have to have my foot lead-footing the gas anymore, and I’ve hit points where I’m actually hitting walls of progression where I can’t actually accomplish tasks without requisite materials or conditions.
Needless to say, I have time again, and frankly I don’t know what to do with it all of a sudden. My televisions and computers haven’t really been properly set up yet, both of which are also relying on requisite hardware/conditions in order to do so, so I can’t just do what I’d been doing in the past, and marathon some show to pass the time. I can’t really do that many more chores or tasks just yet, because some require more time than I have after a day of work, and are better suited for weekends.
So last night, I did something that I haven’t done in what feels like ages; I retired pretty early, crawled into bed, read a book for a little while, and then went to sleep at a sensible time.
I swear, I woke up at 4 am, and then 5 am, thinking that it was time to get up in both instances. By the time my alarm went off at its usual time, I easily got out of bed, and for once I actually feel kind of rested. Things at work are also slowing down at an opportune time as well, so I’m actually beginning to feel like I can breathe easier lately. So, realizing that I hadn’t written anything in a few days which is a few days more than I usually like to allow happen, here I am.
Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that 2017 started with me living in my old house, and just seven months later, I’m in a different one. Between the rapid degradation of my old ‘hood, compared to the general serenity of my new home, it’s truly night and day, and I’m still walking through rooms of my new house thinking that I can’t really believe that this is my house. The joys of homeownership, in both its legitimate and ironic sense are gradually making themselves prevalent again, and I can safely say that I’m over painting and never want to do it again despite the fact that I know that it’s still not actually finished yet, and there are still odds and ends I’m learning about my new home that even professional inspections didn’t reveal.
But I know that I’m putting myself in a position of jinxing and tempting Murphy’s Law, but so far, things are feeling good and with lots of room for optimism. Granted, I have yet to pay the first statement of what’s going to be another endless mortgage, but I wouldn’t have taken it on if I weren’t capable of handling it, as long as I’m not a complete shithead with my finances. But with each passing day, my new home is beginning to feel like home, and I don’t really feel like I’m so up against a clock or a calendar anymore.
Whereas towards the later years of my old home, I knew that that place wasn’t the long-term plan any longer, and I restrained myself from certain purchases or hopes, such isn’t the case any longer. Everything is looking forward and possible, and not seen as something I shouldn’t bother doing, because I’m not going to live here that much longer.
The conveniences of my new home are countless, it seems currently, with people and friends actually close by, and not seen as an insurmountable distance and requiring a day’s trip in order to accommodate. In the past, I’d measure miles to get from one friend’s home, just to laugh incredulously at how far it from my old house, and currently, I’m doing the same, only to shake my head in disbelief at how close it is alternatively.
I can get to the homes of several different friends in less than ten minutes. This is something I hadn’t really had the luxury of since I was living at my parents’ home back in Virginia. In the past, I was limited to one grocery store, that was often times poorly stocked, or didn’t have what I was hoping for. My new home has two grocery stores that I’m equidistant to, and expanding the radius slightly opens the door to like, six more, of varying qualities, and finding shit like bougie cheeses for a party was not an impossible task.
Conversations had at our party with even-more-local friends always had in the back of my mind that when the party was over, I didn’t have to feel guilty that people were going to hop in their cars and have to drive an hour to get home, and it made me happy. Not that it really mattered anymore, because my house has ample space and actual guest rooms, so I know that I could house friends fairly easily without any real hassle at any time, and I’d like to have people over more often now that I have the space to accommodate.
There are many, many restaurants in the area, and I’m not just limited to the same four from my old place. Going to lunch with my girl and/or nearby friends is a leisurely reality that can be done fairly on a whim and not requiring so much planning or a facebook group correspondence to arrange.
I’ve said it a few times over the last few days, but this is really how life should be. I don’t regret my past down on the south end of the city, and I still remember plenty fondly about it, but god damn do the little things in life that make things pleasant feel so much easier now than they have been in the past, and give me great reason for optimism.