It’s become a hobby with us and we can’t stop ourselves and so we are moving. It feels very different from our other moves, so far, for a variety of reasons. For one thing, I take sleeping pills now, which makes it less likely that I’ll whip myself into a frenzy of rage and anxiety every time the moving company changes its schedule and/or breaks something of ours.
Another change: We have cash, for some of this fun and frivolity. I bought a 700 dollar rug today, with my debit card. That is not the financial behavior I would have exhibited only a few short years ago. I’m either growing up, or becoming a conspiracy theorist:
“Honey! I’m buying a rug! A good one. But don’t worry, I’ll pay cash, and, and if the zombies invade we can eat it, or use it to block the windows or something. Whatever we need.”
We have also hired movers this time. Real movers, who pack your stuff. I’m amazed by the whole thing. Presumably, we’ll just pack an overnight bag full of our unmentionables and vitamins, and then go over to wait for the moving men to arrive.
It sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me. I have decided to ignore the only non-awesome aspect of this apartment, which is that I wouldn’t have gotten it unless our dear friends Kwanza and Stella had decided to move to LA. So — happy news, sad news.
The only way to do it is to think of the two things separately: We have an awesome apartment. We miss Kwanza and Stella.
But enough about our sad ambivalence. Let us think of happier things. Such as Big Gay Ice Cream Trucks, below: