Note: This is crossposted as a members-only post on Medium; if you have a membership there plz dear lord read it there and give a clap or two because it makes a sizable difference in My Little Universe.
This morning I woke up at 7:30am to rain. I gave each dog a smoosh: one on left by my feet (mine), and one on my right by my shoulder (not mine), and hoisted myself out of bed. Very strangely, and contrary to my sloth-like mid-afternoon wake up time, I felt grateful to be up at a “normal time” with something to do.
Roxy (Not Mine Dog) got picked up by her mama, I washed my face, and I put on a hat to face the rainy drive to Butcher’s Hill / Middle East (yes, there is a neighborhood in Baltimore named Middle East, apparently). I was a bit relieved and grateful to see that although this house was renovated in 2014 and looked lovely from the craigslist ad, that it’s still, as my new roommate (FORESHADOWING, THAT WAS FORESHADOWING) said, “In the hood.” Sigh. We’re white women.
So, I arrived, and slowly peeked my way around the house, with New Roommate as the guide. Big dining room with craft supplies on a big table and her bike tucked against a wall (You can put your bike in here, too. We can make this a place for bikes, I guess.) I picked up the cat she adopted two days ago and prompty accidentally threw him back on the ground. While she doesn’t have a name for him yet, we began consistently calling him Bartleby through the tour. I strongly prefer the abbreviated Bartle. (Heeey, Bartle! Hey Bart Bart!) He’s orange and little and has enough claws to keep my dog in line, should they not get along.
Dining room, living room, wide fancy kitchen. Cement fancy ass patio and a standing washer dryer. Down hella steep stairs to a low basement that I Do Not Have To Live In (physical relief in writing that – BUT I DID LOVE MY TIME IN THE BASEMENT, I AM #GRATEFUL), and then steep upstairs to get to My New Beautiful Room.
Dark hardwood floors, three long windows with shades *and* blinds, a real closet without mold growing on the floor, and a fabulously high ceiling. The room overlooks the street, and at 9am had perfect natural light. Yes, universe, Yes Thank God.
She showed me *my* bathroom (mine, only mine, No One Else Will Use It), with a bathtub and her room with carpet and an overstuffed closet. I giggled looking at all her shit because I am very doubtful I could fill my half-the-size closet even if I tried. Each time I move to a new state I get rid of another ten bags of shit, sans shoes. I have a disproportionate and inappropriate amount of shoes because I Just Love Them. Because when everything in my closet makes me feel like tweedle dee, my shoes fit fine.
So. Awkardly, in the hall between two bedrooms, with Probably Bartleby lounging with little cat snores on the little rug between us, we informally determined that I Will Move In.
THAT I WILL HAVE A HOME IN BALTIMORE THAT I AM SIGNING A LEASE THAT THIS IS REAL OH MY GOD
I am moderately nervous because a) it’s a 12-month lease which I originally had no intention of signing and b) it’s $500-a-month-plus-utilities which would be horrifically reasonable at any other point in my life aside from my first year of teaching but right now feels like a stretch and c) I literally spent 20 minutes with this girl before determining I can absolutely spend a year in a confined space with her.
I am, in addition to that, and largely overwhelming that, intensely grateful for this bedroom in this home with this woman who is working on her fourth degree despite being probably five years younger than me. I finally move out of the Mold Mildew Basement (which I am so grateful for!!!); I finally unpack the trunk of my car that has been packed since May; I get My Own Space for the first time since May; I am about to live blocks away from a huge park to both run and bring my pup to; I am about to live a 1.5 mile bike ride from Bowling Alley Work Time. I am so grateful. I am so grateful. I am so grateful.
Much love. Much, much love.