I am never moving again

for the past month and a half, i’ve been carrying a manila folder stuffed with papers. on the tab, it reads “HOMELESS–AGAIN!” inside is a stack of apartment listings, crumpled up and scribbled on. this morning, i took it out of my bag and tossed it in the trashcan. i don’t need it anymore.

i found a new place to live: a place on the other side of town that i’ll share with another girl. i move in the first week of may.

no more apartment listings. no more anxiety dreams. no more saturday mornings spent driving by and slowing down and writing phone numbers on the back of receipts. no more.

oh, this place is just lovely. it’s a duplex with hardwood floors and old fixtures and big windows. there’s even a patio. i feel like i’m returning to a life of luxury, although the things i’m most looking forward to are by no means luxurious — things like baking cookies, taking bubble baths and growing plants are everyday activities of which i’ve been simply and sadly deprived these past months.

the next few weeks are going to be madness. this weekend, carrie’s wedding. next weekend, his visit. the following weekend, the big move. but all of these things are good things, and i can’t find one reason to complain.

things are finally looking up.

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