Out of the cabinet & into the cellar
Okay, so it wasn’t a cabinet exactly. I had grown to love the duplex and the many oddities that made it special. It had started to feel like home for me. The pops and creaks the place would make as it warmed from the sun had become familiar. The troops of insects and spiders that would find a way in had started to be less of an annoyance than they once were. The sound of the water under the house — like sitting atop the beach with waves moving back and forth — was soothing. I had even grown fond of the huge fireplace, sitting awkwardly in the corner. It took up too much space and was unusable. I had decided to place foam skulls in it for Halloween and string lights in the top so they would be slightly lit up.
I think I can fall for almost anyplace. It just takes time. With the duplex, it took almost a year for me to really appreciate it. I have certainly lived in places that took less time too, but I like to settle. Part of the reason I moved to Alaska was that I was not happy with my own tendency to settle so quickly. But honestly, that is one of my favorite things to do. It shouldn’t scare me so much.
Currently, I am living in a basement. Surrounded by concrete walls and hot water tanks, I know I can’t stay too long and should fall for this unusual place. For various reasons, I must have a new place to stay by Christmas. I don’t want to think about it just now. I am trying to decide if I can live with a roommate. I tend to be more independent than most people like to deal with. But I doubt I can afford this city on my own. We’ll see. And with any luck I will be settled in to my new place by spring.
Image: photo of Molly in David’s house
Featured Image Art: photo of wall in duplex
This is my last day in the duplex. I intend to be moved out by the end of the day today — both me and the cats. I am quite over this moving experience. It is second only to moving to Alaska for the worst of my life. It has felt rushed and cursed the entire time. Even now, many of my things sit untouched in the soon to be vacant house. It hardly seems like I have enough time to move. In truth, I had planned to continue tomorrow morning, as this is my regularly scheduled weekend off. The manager who writes the schedule, in her infinite pregnant “wisdom” decided that she would schedule me anyway. Don’t worry, I have been making her feel bad about it since I saw the schedule. I should have just told her that I cannot work. This is too important.