Movement in Still Life
Remember this summer, when J and I bought a warehouse loft in SOMA? At long last, we have moved into it. Bunker 2 is dead. Long live Bunker 3. You may ask yourself why on Earth it has taken us this long to move half a dozen blocks. And I would be happy to answer that question as soon as I stop hitting my head against this wall.
Remember when I thought that we might begin construction as soon as we had the keys? And we might be done by September? Or maybe October? Or perhaps, if things went terribly wrong, November? Those were the halcyon days, before it took a month just to get drawings of the plans for our unit from the architect, not to mention two months of haggling with the architect, the plumber, and our downstairs neighbor to establish that we would not be able to build a second bathroom. It was before the HOA took more than a month to approve the final plans and the city took a couple of weeks to issue permits. It is December, my eye-rolling readers, and construction has not even begun.
Technically, construction was slated to begin last week, but J (in his infinite wisdom) pointed out that there would be just enough time to demolish everything before work stopped for two weeks while everyone celebrated the Winter holidays, so we might as well move the starting date to the beginning of January. Then, as if to add a cherry on top of my Dislocation Sundae, the contractor announced that there was no way we would have a working toilet over the entire course of our three-month remodeling project, which means that J and I will need to find temporary housing through the month of March.
My life is in boxes. These boxes are unlikely to be unpacked before Spring 2013. I am doing my best to think of this as an adventure. I have spent a significant chunk of 2012 living out of a suitcase. Now I will live out of a suitcase for three months. I will not get angry when the box marked "Shoes" contains every pair of shoes I can recollect owning except for the pair that match my go-go dancing costume. I will not despair over my inability to locate the box that contains all of my jewelry and hair accessories. It is not the end of the world if I can only find one corset. I will take this opportunity to focus on what I really need to get by from day to day. I will cast off superfluous books and clothes and knick-knacks. I will get rid of every piece of art I have not framed. And when the time comes to move back into Bunker 3, I will nest--I will nest so hard, I will drop anchor.
Remember when I thought that we might begin construction as soon as we had the keys? And we might be done by September? Or maybe October? Or perhaps, if things went terribly wrong, November? Those were the halcyon days, before it took a month just to get drawings of the plans for our unit from the architect, not to mention two months of haggling with the architect, the plumber, and our downstairs neighbor to establish that we would not be able to build a second bathroom. It was before the HOA took more than a month to approve the final plans and the city took a couple of weeks to issue permits. It is December, my eye-rolling readers, and construction has not even begun.
Technically, construction was slated to begin last week, but J (in his infinite wisdom) pointed out that there would be just enough time to demolish everything before work stopped for two weeks while everyone celebrated the Winter holidays, so we might as well move the starting date to the beginning of January. Then, as if to add a cherry on top of my Dislocation Sundae, the contractor announced that there was no way we would have a working toilet over the entire course of our three-month remodeling project, which means that J and I will need to find temporary housing through the month of March.
My life is in boxes. These boxes are unlikely to be unpacked before Spring 2013. I am doing my best to think of this as an adventure. I have spent a significant chunk of 2012 living out of a suitcase. Now I will live out of a suitcase for three months. I will not get angry when the box marked "Shoes" contains every pair of shoes I can recollect owning except for the pair that match my go-go dancing costume. I will not despair over my inability to locate the box that contains all of my jewelry and hair accessories. It is not the end of the world if I can only find one corset. I will take this opportunity to focus on what I really need to get by from day to day. I will cast off superfluous books and clothes and knick-knacks. I will get rid of every piece of art I have not framed. And when the time comes to move back into Bunker 3, I will nest--I will nest so hard, I will drop anchor.