I can’t believe how badly I have eaten all across this big country of ours. I had planned on doing Starbucks yogurts for breakfast and deli sandwiches for lunch, but on the first day I realized that was a fantasy. I mainly ate bad fast food and gas station breakfasts. They usually have iced coffees, at least. In order to make good time, we ate fast, often in the car. We weren’t about to leave the cat in a hot car all medicated, so we basically ate on the run, like vagabonds and lawbreakers. It’s no wonder they never talk about how they eat in the movies. If we could have, we would have done wonderful diners and small town restaurants, but, as I said, we had a dog and a cat to take care of….sigh.
They were surprisingly good during the whole trip. Stevie, my cat, managed to sleep all day and then wake up once we let him out in the hotel room. He was fine with eating dinner in a weird place and looking for a place to hang out. He made sure to get his belly rubs in (yes, he likes his belly rubbed, like a dog), and he managed to chase the dog around just like normal. Radley was good too, but he was having separation anxiety every time one of us left to go to the bathroom or leave the hotel room at night. I had planned to do all of this stuff on the road, writing, reading, drawing, craft stuff. But instead I had a very tired and very worried pup on my lap all day long. Thank goodness he’s small or we’d have had a problem.
I had this plan to document the trip with video, but M. nixed that on day one. He hates the camera, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was still annoying. I had interview questions in mind! What a killjoy. I had anticipated that at some point we would have a road trip fight, because that’s what people do, but we never did. We get along well, even though I talk a lot on car trips.
A lot. And I sing along to my favorite songs. Always.
I found myself quite the amazing partner. I knew this already, but this trip has cemented that for me. He’s just a great person and he loves me absolutely. He is the greatest guy in the world. And, as an added bonus, soon after we got here, his accent started to get more pronounced. Three days back in Philly and I’m hearing “there” with a “d” sound on the beginning, like “over der.” So cute! I’m loving the accent here big time.
Moving is hell, and I have to say, I think I'm too old for the DIY move. I have come to a place in my life where I've got a lot of nice stuff. I don't want to carry it all up to an apartment myself. I am bruised and battered and sore. I haven't been this tired in a long time. And it all came after weeks of work and stress and unexpected setbacks. For instance, our landlord is new to the landlord business (as I call it, "landlording") and didn't have the apartment cleaned or painted. There was even old furniture and cans in the cupboards. So on the first day, we bought cleaning supplies and had to clean the whole thing top to bottom. We're saving painting for later because it's just too much work.
I'm just relieved to finally be here, with the couch in place, the bed made, and a hot shower. I would never do this again. I mean, I don't want to live in this apartment forever, but I doubt we'll move out of here before we buy something and can afford movers. I wonder if moving is like tattoos or the dentist (or as some women say, childbirth), where you say you'll never forget how excruciating it is and vow "never again!" only to find yourself saying, years later, "I could move, it wouldn't be so bad." If you like your apartment now, do not leave. I can't wait until every piece of cardboard is gone and I can eat a home cooked dinner in my new place.
Next entry will hopefully have pictures from the road trip and the new place!
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