Today I Tackled Showering

I was dreading Saturday with all my being. The stress (i.e., my biggest fault) being I don’t deal well with change. I like routine and stability and control and things of those likes. And I follow a pattern, be this pattern good or bad, of creating comfortable situations and habits. In high school, my parents uprooted our family – exchanging a quiet Midwestern upbringing for a bit of southern charm. This moved was hard to accept for a l-o-n-g time. I recovered, went to college, and proceeded (as most probably do) to move every year, twice during my freshman year. Those college moves were slightly easier – from a dorm to an on-campus apartment to an off-campus apartment to a house in the downtown. So though I stood grounded in South Carolina working my way through the rigors of college, my family remained in motion – switching their residence from Georgia to Michigan and eventually to Virginia; I was never certain as to where I might be spending my summers. Following college, I of course opted for a unique ‘next step’ – forming a home in Africa. That, like the high school move, was an adjustment, though this time one chosen by my own doing. In college, Peace Corps, and my young adult life, I never knew where to tell people I was from… Kansas? South Carolina? Or – being family oriented – where my family happened to be located during that particular moment?

So in all this, moving lost a lot of luster. And while if only me, this past move could be considered one of the smaller ones – one apartment in Washington, DC to another, it was compacted by the fact Boyfriend and I were moving in together. Moving two apartments into one and in doing so melding two lives into one; this qualifies as a big change. And while it’s super exciting, it’s also terrifying. 

For this move, I enlisted my parents’ help. This ended up being a wise decision as the four of us worked from 8:00 am to 6:00 pm without stopping, moving belongings from my parents’ home in Northern Virginia and Boyfriend and my apartments into our new space. For 10 hours we piled heavy boxes and bulky furniture from in our new home. After bidding my parents a thankful farewell, Boyfriend and I returned our borrowed UHAUL from which we had unloaded three full loads throughout the day. Then, exhausted – to the point Boyfriend was called out for being so (at the Uhaul drop off) – we headed to Rice Paper, our favorite restaurant, for a celebratory dinner. And not quite ready for what awaited us, I convinced Boyfriend to go for a post-dinner bubble tea. With the sole goal of getting the bed set up, we paved our way through boxes and built a bed-assembly workspace. Boyfriend constructed while I busied myself elsewhere – out of his way. And that was only Saturday. 

The Red Panda on the UHAUL truck made his day. 

I drove out to my parents early the next morning. Rain fell the entire hour cruise as I relished in my silent, clean car. Boyfriend was left to himself with a million unpacked boxes. After the baby shower, I went to “collect forgotten items” (i.e., hang out with Old Roommate). Upon returning home, I was in a less than good mood. Because nothing says happiness like a disheveled home. While away, I had been to my parents’ cozy, puppy-filled home, my parents’ neighbors decorated, candle-lit home, and my old apartment – restocked with the replacement roommate’s belongings – in the early staging of creating her life there. I loved that little apartment – the oversized windows and the balcony over looking the park; it’s been my favorite home to date. I shall not discount Boyfriend’s effort – our place was becoming more livable; I was pleasantly surprised that was possible for when I left, it was as though we just had too much stuff to make this place work. 

(I admit I was disgusted by the amount of “cherish-ables” I’ve accumulated. I can’t blame this on Boyfriend; my junk is doing the cramming.) 

I forced my sour attitude into action, hoping to give my deserving man some relief.

There was some fun amidst all the work - homemade pumpkin seeds.

Monday was a holiday for me, the irony being that I’ve essentially been on holiday since returning from Lesotho; I do not thank you Government Shutdown 2013 – I am about to lose my mind. I celebrated Columbus in style because I feel it’s what Columbus would have wanted. I kid. I occupied my time organizing and unpacking the bathroom, then preceded to make grand progress in the bedroom. I also grocery shopped and prepared a meal we both love – pizza on my new pizza stone(!!!). And if you don’t have a pizza stone and enjoy pizza as much as we do, go ahead and make that purchase. It makes all the difference. It took 45 minutes for the oven to reach 500 degrees but the pizza a.m.a.z.i.n.g. Boyfriend doesn’t see beet, goat cheese, red onion, and spinach pizza as a complete meal so I whipped up a tortellini pasta salad, recipe courtesy of the Barefoot Contessa, to accompany the dish. After working all day for a company that clearly has zero respect for Columbus, Boyfriend further slaved away trying to get cable up and running. To no avail, though we are able to hardwire Internet. So not all was failed.

And today I tackled showering. There is something about showering that makes everything real. I can’t shower in a new place until I’m in the beginning stages of sure. Tuesday, being four days in – ready or not – it was time. The shower did not sell me on this place. No, not even one bit. But Boyfriend claims, it’s gets better with time – he’s taken at least six showers, including two on move-in day. I’ll hold on to the hope he’s given me. So there you have it, 1000 words on my accomplishment – showering.