The Joys of Apartment Living

There’s no hot water in my apartment.

I discovered it last night when I was doing dishes. I noticed the water didn’t feel all that warm through the gloves I wear to keep itchy dryness at bay. I didn’t think anything of it until I turned on the shower later in the evening.

Cold, cold water.

It was a hot weekend, pretty humid, so I got in anyway, thinking a cool shower might be nice. But putting one leg under the stream coming from the shower head was enough to tell me there was no way I could make it through a shower that cold.

Sponge bath it is.

The landlord was called this morning. Hopefully it’s just a matter of him re-lighting the pilot on the water heater.

If not, I’ll be showering at the gym for awhile.

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Come Here, Go Away

I’m feeling lonely for some reason. It occurred to me that I felt the same way the last time I moved two years ago. I’m not sure why this would be the case. Being an only child, I’m rarely lonely, and have no problem entertaining myself. For some reason, moving to a new place makes me want people around me.

Myrna stopped by earlier and helped me move a box upstairs (thanks!). I’ve trolled through my whole phonebook on my cell and no one is around. And technically I’m not alone: Ginger the cat is cleaning her back paws underneath the desk as I write this. But for some reason I really want to have someone here with me.

Knowing me, I’d want them to go away as soon as they got here, but still…

Praise Jesus! At Least She Was Wearing Underwear.

My life has been pretty dull over the last few days. Lots of non-packing going on. I do have to get my butt in gear this weekend, however.

During my appointment with my personal trainer last night we did kick boxing, with actual boxing gloves. It was a lot of fun, and got quite a bit of tension out that I’ve been feeling the last few days. We worked arms, legs and abs. And I’m not sore today like I thought I would be, so that’s good news.

I have a busy rest of the day ahead of me: news releases and newsletters to write, mail to get sent out to friends, and (ugh) packing.

As the Packing Goes

Or doesn’t, like it did for me last night.

I brought home many, many boxes (well, maybe four or so more than I did previously, but they did barely fit under my arm) last night, but it was just too hot to pack, so I didn’t. I watched “I Love the New Millennium” and ate pizza for dinner, and tried to read last week’s Entertainment Weekly, which came to me in the mail with no staples to bind it.

Yes, it was too hot to pack. I have a love/hate relationship with summer. I love it in that it’s not winter (i.e. cold), but I hate it when it gets so humid that I roll out of bed and immediately begin sweating. And I know as I lose weight I will probably sweat less, but right now I am what I am, and who I am absolutely abhors sweating.

I’m sure my readers (all one or two of you) are amazed that some lucky guy hasn’t snapped me up yet. A girl who likes baseball, watches cheesy shows on VH1 and writes about sweat? I’m a catch! :p

A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins With a Single Step…

…and the long job of packing begins with the first boxes.

The items that fill these boxes are, other than my cat, some of my most prized possessions.

I packed six smaller sized boxes tonight (that was the only amount of boxes I could lug home from work under one arm), and I filled them with books because it seems the boxes of books are always the heaviest, so I wanted to make it a little easier on the moving guys. (Who I haven’t called yet. Crap!)

If only I were done packing the books. I still have the bookcase in the picture below to pack, as well as another one off camera.

Originally I had packed some books from one shelf and some from the other identical shelf because their sizes made them good “fits” for the boxes. As I finished I realized what a bad idea this was. I had a feeling Ginger would suddenly look at these lovely, empty bookshelves as if she were seeing them for the first time, and want to climb on them and mark them with her scent. The bookcases aren’t bolted to the wall, so I pictured the horrible scene I might have come home to the following day after she either crushed herself under the bookcase, or crushed something else. So, being the good Mommy I am, I moved the remaining books from one shelf onto the other and disassembled the empty shelf post-haste.

(And she did start to climb on the bottom shelf before I took it apart, but I wasn’t fast enough with the camera to get a picture of her.)

I was, however, able to get this picture of her sitting in her corner looking very confused. I’m sure she’s wondering, “What’s going on, Mom?”

She’ll figure it out real quick as the boxes I pack start to trap us in the apartment, because my place is so small there isn’t really anywhere to go with them.

God I hate packing. I wish I could snap my fingers and everything would be moved over to the new place.

Movin’ on Up

Tonight I signed the lease for my new apartment!

The long national nightmare is at an end

My search for an apartment in Wauwatosa came to an end tonight when I got a call that my application for an apartment was accepted! It’s a two-bedroom upper duplex with a faux electric fireplace and built in bookcases with leaded glass doors, a built in buffet in the dining room, a sort-of-old kitchen (but far larger than the one I have now), a large porch on the front and an airing porch in the back. And a garage space with an electric door opener, whee!

The built-in bookcases and hutch in the dining room (as well as the porch), while to some people might sound silly, were things I was really looking for and, while the carpet is not the color I would like it to be, and the kitchen is a little older, and not so great wallpaper in the bathroom, I’m willing to forgo those things for what I really want.

I can technically move in July 15, but probably will tell my landlord I’m moving on the 31st so I have time to clean my current apartment (and the new one). The main thing I am fretting over (besides being able to pay for all of this stuff) is telling my landlord. She’s so nice, and I am so not a confrontational person, so I don’t know exactly how to do it. I hate to say this, but I’m strongly considering telling a white lie and saying I’m moving in with a roommate or someone I know bought the duplex and I’m living upstairs. I know that it shallow and childish, but I am — at times — shallow and childish.

I won’t let that ruin my excitement though (although I have to give notice in the next couple days, as I’m going out of town for work from the 11th to the 20th). Yay! I have a two-bedroom apartment now!