Moving places
Short update from the cold end of the world. After being really sick AGAIN because antibiotics can cause as many problems as they solve, I am getting ready to Move.
This isn't the standard move many young people indulge in, where they move out but their parent's house remains Home. This time I'm moving out and shortly afterwards my folks are knocking down my childhood home. After years of plumbing, electrical, animal, gas and other sorts of problems, the last straw was finally pulled: the sink broke and my mother told my step-dad that they either were getting a new house or he'd be getting a new wife. A moment of serious contemplation passed and with great reluctance, he decided on the former. So the old place is going to be knocked down and they are getting a new one built.
So for the half a year or so, I'm going to be renting a room. Then since I'm attempting to save for school, I'll be moving back into their place. (OMG How pathetic is a twenty-five year-old who still lives with her parents? ...Alright maybe it isn't that bad, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.
Attempting to find a decent place and even more importantly, compatible roommates is a tiresome chore. Still the hardest thing is going through all my stuff and giving it away. There's limited storage in the new house and later in life I hope to permanently move out and undoubtedly I have to part with some of my memories. My stuffed animals all had personalities and while I'm saving four of them, tmany like Sarah Tops (my triceratops) and Quincy the Easter Bunny were inevitable culled. I ran into one of my first stories going through my stuff. It was part of my "Three Wizzerds" series about siblings, twin boys and their sister, who went on many magical adventures.
The house was a dump. The basement, where I sleep, was freezing except for during the heart of summer. The plumbing meant that if you so much as touched a facet while someone was in the shower, aforementioned someone would perform the ritual hot/cold dance. The kitchen was minuscule. The floors, and countertops of the kitchen and bathrooms were linoleum and were marred with deep scratches.
I'll really miss it.
This isn't the standard move many young people indulge in, where they move out but their parent's house remains Home. This time I'm moving out and shortly afterwards my folks are knocking down my childhood home. After years of plumbing, electrical, animal, gas and other sorts of problems, the last straw was finally pulled: the sink broke and my mother told my step-dad that they either were getting a new house or he'd be getting a new wife. A moment of serious contemplation passed and with great reluctance, he decided on the former. So the old place is going to be knocked down and they are getting a new one built.
So for the half a year or so, I'm going to be renting a room. Then since I'm attempting to save for school, I'll be moving back into their place. (OMG How pathetic is a twenty-five year-old who still lives with her parents? ...Alright maybe it isn't that bad, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.
Attempting to find a decent place and even more importantly, compatible roommates is a tiresome chore. Still the hardest thing is going through all my stuff and giving it away. There's limited storage in the new house and later in life I hope to permanently move out and undoubtedly I have to part with some of my memories. My stuffed animals all had personalities and while I'm saving four of them, tmany like Sarah Tops (my triceratops) and Quincy the Easter Bunny were inevitable culled. I ran into one of my first stories going through my stuff. It was part of my "Three Wizzerds" series about siblings, twin boys and their sister, who went on many magical adventures.
The house was a dump. The basement, where I sleep, was freezing except for during the heart of summer. The plumbing meant that if you so much as touched a facet while someone was in the shower, aforementioned someone would perform the ritual hot/cold dance. The kitchen was minuscule. The floors, and countertops of the kitchen and bathrooms were linoleum and were marred with deep scratches.
I'll really miss it.