One of the things which is stressing me out and consuming much of my time right now is moving; I find moving more stressful than break-ups. I hate-hate-hate doing it and have put it off for months now.
NB: I know many of you thought I was moving to SF this past March, but that obviously didn't happen and it's for the best. When I say I have put moving off for months, I'm not referring to THAT cross-country-clusterfuck. Rather, I'm referring to the fact that my gemutlich Kalorama studio started falling apart...and the fantastic building manager who would've prevented and/or immediately addressed such issues was promoted and moved down the street to a different building because, well, she's fantastic.
Good for her, not so good for me. I needed to move, but I felt trapped, both by my reluctance to deal with the hassle and the fact that everything I was looking at was $$$. Despite the crumbling, bubbling ceilings, the broken heater and the occasional roach-spotting, I found the lesser of two shitty evils to be staying where I was...and being miserable. If I had received a magic 20% raise, I would've sucked it up and left, especially after all those nights spent freezing in March and April, but nothing I looked at in my price range was that much better OR as close to a metro. So I was stuck.
And then, a good friend got a different job, relocated to the West Coast and offered me dibs on his beautiful apartment, which is in a much posher building than mine-- and yet, $300 cheaper (utilities included). Did I mention the rooftop pool and the one-block proximity to the metro? No? I was probably too busy gloating gleefully. ;) I hurriedly said, "HELL YES" and then thanked the Lord that I'd be moving somewhere where there were no roaches, the ceilings were intact, the heater worked-- and the rent was less than what I paid for my Kalorama crib in 2006 (which was already a steal).
I'd rather parade down M Street on October 31st wearing one of those skanky halloween costumes ("naughty nurse!"..."pervy policewoman!"..."frisky french maid!") from The Pleasure Place with my abs in their current shameful state and my upper arm fat flapping in the wind than pack everything I own in to boxes and move them-- and if you've seen those costumes, my bikinis are more conservative.
So yeah. I think you realize how much I hate moving. I almost had an anxiety attack about it yesterday.
I am leaving one apartment for another, and I've been trying to figure out what I want to do with this "fresh start", decor wise. I thought a wall of shelves might be wise (and cheap-- they are on sale at Tarzhay this week) but I wasn't sure...until I saw this. Isn't it lovely?
I certainly wouldn't mind having so many books that I could arrange them like this, by color (!), but I also wouldn't mind that cutie-patootie pug, either...oh, hell, I wouldn't mind any dog. I just miss my dog, period.
The photo is striking and inspirational. Over a thousand people have favorited it on Flickr, which is a testament to how cool it is. It put a smile on my face, I thought I'd make your mouth move that way, too.