movin' on up

The front door swung open and I raced inside, squealing happily. “It smells like freshly cleaned carpet,” I moaned, bending down to touch the floor.

“It’s so bright and airy,” K said, running her hand over the countertop. “And clean! And the dishwasher is BRAND-NEW.”

“The bathroom has an adjustable showerhead!” I screamed ecstatically from upstairs.

After we’d calmed down a little, we went over the move-in checklist that our sweet new landlady, Lois, had provided. The few problems we had were pretty minor: a small hole in the screen, a faint pink stain on the carpet, and the back of my closet door was horribly (and inexplicably) water-stained. (Ever vigilant against the Mold Menace, I practically put on a loupe to inspect the stains, but I found nothing worrisome.) We dutifully checked them off on the list and turned it in.

I spent Friday evening packing, and on Saturday morning, I got up bright and early and loaded my car from floor to ceiling with boxes, tchotchkes, and gewgaws. I felt like a goddamn Okie escaping the Dust Bowl. Despite the extra weight, Ariel faithfully chugged up the grade with nary a protest, and when I got to the new place, I began the laborious process of hauling everything inside. If Bil Keane had been behind me making dotted lines to show my progress, it would have looked like this: Car, up the stairs, into the apartment, up THOSE stairs, bedroom, bathroom, downstairs, downstairs again, car.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Six times.

Once everything was inside, I got back in my car, returned to the old digs, and packed the car again. Then I drove up that stupid fucking grade one more time (won’t miss THAT commute, no sir) and repeated the cycle. It was at least 85 degrees out and I was sweating like a pretty boy in prison. I put as much stuff away as I could, and then I hung the new shower curtain and took the most blissful shower of my life. I could feel the grime sluicing off my weary body, and I nearly wept with gratitude as the water ran down my aching calves.

When I’d dried off and gotten dressed, I drove to G’s and rang the bell. I could hear his crutches thumping against the floor as he made his way to the door, and when it swung open and I saw his wonderful face smiling at me, something like a fist slowly unclenched itself inside of me.