Empty Walls and Nowhere to Sit
I’m weary of living in an apartment filled with mountains of boxes. We’re in limbo now; all the curtains are packed and there is no color anywhere. I don’t want to take down our glow-in-the-dark stars because it means there’s nothing left to take down from the walls. Similarly, I don’t want to finish packing the kitchen because it means there’s nothing left to pack. I’ll be stuck; I already feel stuck.
There is progress, though, no matter how wedged I feel. We moved our friends out on Saturday. J and I think they’re crazy because of the place they’ve chosen to live: carpeted kitchen; pole in the middle of the living room and French doors lining almost all the walls of that room; Sauna-turned-pantry; a bathtub in the middle of the bedroom; and a tiny range/oven wedged into its own tiny room. And thankfully, they’d already started cleaning their old apartment when we got in to measure the place to figure out where we want furniture.
We will get moved, we will get moved, we will get moved… and we won’t fall apart over it, either.