So Apparently This Exists
Yes, apparently I have a blog. Who knew? Summer has gone by without a single post.
I moved in late June. My new apartment is a second-floor two-bedroom flat above two garages and a small studio. The living room has giant windows overlooking a busy parking lot on one side and a massive, abundant avocado tree on the other. The floors are grey-painted wood, except for the dining room (untreated wood, very rustic) and the tiled bathroom (I have a bathtub! After 10 years without!) and tiny kitchen.
It is as KonMarie as I can muster. I have almost nothing in my house. No paintings on the walls, no photos, no knick-nacks, no TV. When I moved in, I moved the minimal amount of stuff I needed, and I like it this way. I know other people are questioning my sanity a bit – I can see the look in your eyes – but there are a couple of things going on.
First, I think I’m a little depressed. I don’t know if it’s menopause-related or not, but the fact that I had TWENTY-ONE hot flashes on Saturday (the day I decided to count) surely isn’t helping my mental state. In fact, I’m feeling rattled and weird about my body, like it isn’t my friend anymore. We are just not getting along, my body and I.
I got tendinitis in my Achilles tendons, so I had to stop Zumba (my favorite thing on earth, pretty much) and I gained weight and I’m sweaty all the time and I’ve gotten some arthritis and SHUT UP YOU WHINY OLD LADY GOD NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR STUPID ACHES AND PAINS.
And second, I don’t feel like this is my home. I don’t mean in a “You’re just not settled in yet” way. I mean in a “This is not my home” kind of way. It’s nice in one way because I feel like I’m on vacation, not at home. But on the other hand, there’s the nagging thought “You need to find your home.”
Until then, I’m not unpacking much.