I’m moving. Apartments, I mean. Not right now or anything, but soon enough. It is a shift into the adulthood of my early thirties. I can’t believe it, but for the first time I will be signing a lease and living alone.
As I looked back over my decade of living in rented space, I can’t believe how little of it has existed alone. Boyfriends. Roommates. Shared trailer park space. Inappropriately long stretches of time living with my mother.
Now the time has finally come to try apartment life solo. I live in a safe city with cheap rent and it’s time to take advantage and start behaving (slightly) more like a grown-up.
My current roommate and I were discussing my prospects last night. She asked me what I wanted in an apartment. Here is what I came up with:
List of Requirements for ‘Living Alone’ Apartment
-location near a park
-as many bedrooms as I can afford
-a place to put my keyboard
As I started listing things like “an oven” and “a table”, I realized I’m not very good at this type of list. Given my troubled history with nesting, it’s not a great surprise.
For me, home is a feeling. The internet meme quotes immediately validated this assertion:
I can sort of picture where I might like to live in my mind. There’s lots of light. It’s quiet. I’m sitting at the table by the window, writing and drinking delicious instant coffee (Yes, I’m serious. I love instant coffee.) I think there are lots of places I can find that. Of course, I’m sad to end this roommate chapter of my life (because I don’t think you go back to having roommates. Unless, you know. Cats.)
But I’m excited to find my next home.