welcome home

I’ve been at my new apartment for one and a half weeks, and I’m nearly settled in. I keep telling myself that once this happens or that comes in the mail or I do this one thing, I’ll be home; I’ll be settled. I’ll be in it for the long run.

I feel shockingly committed to this apartment. We always knew that the last place was temporary. This one feels good—great location, great space, solitude. I’m really happy about it and hoping to stay for a few years. Yes, I said years. Plural. We’ll see how I feel in 6 months or so.

But really, I am oddly happy. I think I am caught in the euphoric novelty of the apartment & living alone. Before I moved, I was afraid that I would be too lonely. I’m still afraid of that, but this week is aptly filled with hangouts, so really, I’m not too worried. What I am worried about is the sadness.

The sadness that creeps in whenever it wants to, without warning or cause, and overrules anything else I may be feeling. Week one was okay, but by Friday, I could feel it pushing its way in through the register and the windows and the cracks between the couch.

I guess there’s no sense worrying about something I don’t feel yet, especially when I feel so happy now, so totally content with what my life looks like from a bird’s-eye-view. I get too worried about details. Let’s be real, I’m settled in here.

Pickle is too. She loves running from the living room to the bedroom, and just getting to say that makes me so happy: rooms. She loves jumping onto the bed or over the couch. She also has a strange obsession with hiding her toys under the living room rug and the trying to get them out by chewing on the rug. We’re working on it.

SO here it is from a glance. 

Entry way, complete with boxes, Dali calendar from 2012, and dog.

Pickle abides. 

Living room window. 

1st Ave

Broken strings, but who cares? The guitars made it up!

She's usually a better welcome committee lead than this. Trust me, if you come over, she'll leap to greet you with a much happier face. 

"The office"/kitchen "table" (this has actually progressed since this photo: now featuring bar stools & a calendar!)

The kitchen: kettle on the stove, feels like home.

BEDROOM! When I toured the apartment, we walked into the living room, and I was like "woah, this is a small studio," (seeing only the living room) and the lady said, "oh no, it's a one bedroom". I nearly fainted with joy. So.Much.Space.

 Books and more books, of course. It's a comfort thing. More decorations to come.

Maybe it's weird to showcase my bathroom, but come on, there's a corner toilet. Awesome.