Sunday, November 29, 2009


So, I’m all moved out and in my own place for the first time in 13 years. In the past two weeks I have (drum roll please)…looked at about 30 apartments, picked one, decided it wasn’t suitable after realizing the windows didn’t have proper locks and the landlord was a slob and the kitchen was too small, picked another one, spent an ungodly amount of time at IKEA, bought furniture, built furniture with the help of my Dad, moved almost all the stuff I’d accumulated over the more than 10 years in my last apartment, hosted a friend from out of town the day after I moved in, done two phone interviews and one in person (journalistic kind), been interviewed for a potentially cool new job. Blog friends, I am TIRED. Oh, and I seem to have caught a cold – big surprise there, huh?

I’m also starting to date again, which is interesting. I’ve gotten so used to trying not to check out attractive people that it’s weird to be allowed to do it without feeling guilty. I’m trying not to let it distract me from job hunting, which is where I really should be focusing. I’m also loving my new apartment, which is gorgeous. Will post pictures later, when I’m less tired. In the meantime can I just say how nice it is to finally sleep in a real bed again? When I moved into my old place my ex brought his old futon, which we said we were going to exchange for a real bed at some point, but it never happened. Now note that this was not a nice, traditional futon that’s meant to be a bed, those are cool, and pretty comfy. This was a cheap American futon of the kind that college kids buy for their dorm room. I think the fact that, despite my bringing it up multiple times, we never actually got a real bed, is emblematic of what was wrong with that relationship, and why I’m no longer in it. I’m willing to bet my ex will still be sleeping on the same futon when he’s 50. Me, however, I’m loving the real bed with the comfy mattress and the proper duvet cover that actually matches the sheets and the overall look of the room.

In theory I guess I’m supposed to be depressed or lonely but actually I’m feeling pretty upbeat. It’s just so nice to actually live in an apartment that’s decorated in a way that I like, and to be able to keep it clean without having someone nagging me that my preference for good hygiene is somehow weird or OCD. Not having anyone else to answer to is awesome, is what I’m saying. Plus being able to play the music I like whenever I feel like it? Also awesome.

It feels good to be starting over. A little scary, but good. So, how is everyone else doing?