Welp, we successfully found a place to live, huzzah! It’s a really cute turn-of-the-century place in SouthEast Portland, not far from Lone Fir Pioneer Cemetery (eee!). It’s within walking distance of everything from a Pilates studio specializing in Parkinson’s patients to a Whole Foods.
We’re moving up the weekend of 4/13, which means packing has begun in earnest. Gah. I hate this part of moving. Having even some of my books packed up makes me feel like ants are crawling under my skin. Plus, I can’t pack everything because some things are still in use, but I also need to get as much packed in as orderly a fashion as possible pronto.
I’m considering packing my main piece of luggage with enough clothes for a week and then living out of it while I pack all my other clothes away. I don’t really need access to every single tshirt I own right now, let alone my Halloween costumes and fancy-dress clothes, right? Right. Plus, then I’d have room in my closet for boxes.
That’s another problem: our apartment was never exactly spacious to begin with, and now that we have boxes and partially-empty furniture, it’s getting really crowded. It’s kind of like playing Tetris, but in real life and with boxes that are heavy enough to hurt your back (because if you’re me, you’re apparently not capable of doing half-books-half-other-stuff to make the boxes less heavy).
Further, there’s the lingering guilt of moving away from my home town. I hate the thought of making my parents and my friends sad. But I gotta go, you guys! The Bay Area has been great, but Portland is like a giant electromagnet or beautiful siren or some other metaphor for inexorable drawing.
Overcast days here in the Bay Area make me homesick for Portland, and we don’t even live there yet.
I can’t wait to be moved, y’all. Seriously.
