Rainy Friday morning. I overslept. Got woken up by the cat. Got mad at the cat for being noisy. Discovered that I had overslept by an hour. Scolded the cat for not being able to tell time better. Gave cat cuddles and said sorry.
This is the kind of day when you sit at home in you pyjamas and play Rift. And drink lot’s and lot’s of tea. Being a grownup sucks sometimes.
What I think is weird is how you live in a place and you feel at home, and you sort of start to stagnate, and what you once upon a time thought you’d “fix” or “change” just never happened, your home is now your little fortified castle where things are ever so slightly but continually in disarray, but it’s your mess so it doesn’t matter, but still you wished you would have had time to fix or change things and make it a bit nicer.
But then when you decide to leave there’s suddenly this surge; you want to move on, you plan and you do and you make, onwards and upwards! You plan for every eventuality, everything has to click, and even though you’re pretty sure everything will work out just fine, you still don’t dare to hope, you don’t want to jinx it, just in case.
So I haven’t talked much about the whole process. I didn’t want to jinx it. We did an incredible amount of work in just 10 days, because that’s what we had before we were going on the two-week vacation we had planned a while ago. A longer while than the actual moving plans, strangely enough. We realised, a couple of weeks before our holiday, that we had to get the timing right, and so we rolled up our sleeves and went at it.
Once you fix things and sort stuff out, this little home suddenly looks pretty great. And you remind yourself that this was your place, your little fortified panic room, and in the afterglow of it all you sort of don’t want to leave it. I don’t know how many times I said “I’ve wanted to get this fixed for YEARS”, or “Why didn’t I do this ages ago?”.
We got it done in time for the photo shoot for the add, and then we left for England and Italy for two days later. It was a strange contrast; two weeks of slaving away verses two weeks of utter escapism and leisure. Of course it was also a bit of an anticlimax, getting everything ready for a sale and then… just… wait. I just wanted everything to be over and done with. And I was really worried no one would want to buy my apartment, my home, my fort, you know, the place I love. In an odd sort of way it would make me feel oddly rejected. But the photos for the add turned out pretty well, I think:
Of course, in the end someone bought it. We got home from our vacation, the estate agent arranged for two viewings, people came, people bid, and it all went far better than expected. When I went to sign the papers, meeting my buyers for the first time, they turned out to be a very cute, artistic looking young couple with a 2 year old boy. I was happy, they were happy (especially the boy, who got a cookie at the estate agent’s office), and all the things I’ve loved about my home they expressed an appreciation and very prominent enthusiasm for as well. Which made me feel good, like I wasn’t abandoning my apartment, but rather turning it over to someone else who will care for it and love it.
A lot has been going on the last couple of months. Since February? Since X-mas? It started out so much smaller, just a wish to sort my place out and making it less encumbered, more organised, more like a home. I started sorting through my basement last year, sorted through my books and gave half my stuff away to goodwill, and Jed built some shelves for me for better storage and it sort of moved on from there. I found a great little sink for my bathroom and Jed helped me install it, and it looked great, and my apartment stated looking great. Then we were suddenly looking at apartments, just for fun, you know, we weren’t in any hurry or anything. Until suddenly we were, because suddenly we had a PLAN. I threw out a lot more of my stuff, and did a lot more DIY and packed a lot of boxes.
I realised that I’ve spent over 13 years living in one specific area in Stockholm. That’s a long time. Actually, it’s most of my life as an adult. I remember when I moved away from home, and this area was the promised land; everything was new and exciting and even the tiny crappy grocery store on the corner was awesome. This area is so familiar to me now that it’s sort of meta. I walk the same routes every day, shop in the same store, I know the time table for the buses and the subway by heart and even though the area evolves and changes, just as my life has, it’s still all so very… constant. Continual. Same same, but different, you know?
But I’m moving now. I have sold my old apartment. It feels a bit sad, and at the same time it feels like a relief. I love my home, but I’m done. It’s old and full of charm and personality, but it is also very cold in the winter and filled with way to much baggage. Out with the old, in with the new. Good riddance.
I am sort of between homes at the moment (not quite as severe as Nick Jaffe) due to being in the process of selling my apartment and camping out at Jed’s until we get access to our new place. A lot of planning, a lot of logistics. My key chain is starting to get ridiculous, but seems a bit symbolic for how my life feels right now.
I got a buddy pack and now Boyfriend is trying it out. Mostly for my sake. This really is not the kind of game he usually plays.
Me: “Hun, it’s getting sort of late, I’m going to bed”
BF: *frenetically punches the keyboard*
Me: “It’s after midnight and…”
BF: “I know I KNOOOW!” *swats with his hand, keep punching all his buttons*
As I go to bed I hear snippets of frustration:
“Why won’t it…?!”
“And who the fuck are you?!”
“And why is he on a fucking turtle?!”
Right now it feels like the last couple of weeks, and the next seven, is all going to be down to timing. If everything goes accordingly to plan things will just fit perfectly. Cross your fingers!
We’re right in the middle of it all now, bunkering down at Jed’s, and Sixxten just came “home” from his month at the Kitty Spa (e.g. my parents). He’s a bit suspicious of this place. The flat is on the ground floor, and being an indoors cat, he’s never had people walking around just outside his window before. Every little noise is very interesting. He spends a lot of time on the windowsill, keeping a lookout, just in case we’d be invaded by zombies. One can’t be too careful.
Being plopped down in reality after two weeks of total escapism is rather brutal; work is just as crazy as ever if not more, and right now I feel like I’m part of some sort of weird kerplunk experiment. I am trying to keep positive and do things in a steady pace and not get stressed out but cheez, sometimes I feel like it’s impossible to do a really good job. Sometimes I suspect my standards are too high, maybe it’s not healthy to care so much.
Anyway, there’s a lot going on on the home front right now, I’ll try to write a bit more about that later. But, for one thing, I moved out my Xbox the other day… However, I’ve figured out that I’ll have some time left to try out Rift, so I’m picking up my copy today. I’m getting a buddy pack… You never know, I might get Jed to try it out. See you on Argent!