In September, when I was living with the K.s again, for approximately the third stint this year, a friend texted me and asked if I was still looking for a place to live. I was, but I didn't really answer right away, because I wanted to live alone, and I assumed he was asking for a friend, and the thought of meeting someone's friend and then not liking the person and having to say no and alienating a friend of mine was not very pleasant.
The next day, J. pestered me some more, and it turned out that he had broken up with his girlfriend and moved into a new place, and the roommate in his new place, who had lived there for six years, found out that she was pregnant right after J. moved in. She decided to move in with her boyfriend, leaving J. alone in the apartment.
I went over to see the place, and I was instantly charmed. The apartment is the upper floor of a house near where I lived for the summer. The floor is wood and the walls are painted real colors. There are big windows (the ones in my bedroom face south). There are two huge closets off my room, each with its own little diamond-shaped window. The kitchen feels like you are standing at the front of a ship, with windows on three sides of the sink. The bathroom has built-in drawers and cupboards, and also a clawfoot tub. There is a glass door at the top of the stairs. Sold.
I moved in at the end of September. Thanks to the Major Work Event, I am still not fully unpacked. There are empty boxes in the hallway and the kitchen.
Thanks to being broke, I have not purchased some things that would really help fill the place up. I could really use a rug for my bedroom, to keep the heat in.
But it's coming along.
It is lovely to wake up in the same cozy bed every day, and to know that it is my bed, and I will get to wake up in that same bed for the foreseeable future. I don't ever want to move again.