So Long

I pulled up to the curb. I figured it would seem different, and I was right. It's even better in May.

The apartment in March was great. But now, the spirea bushes are in full bloom. The grass in green and newly mowed. I walked up the couple steps and rang the doorbell even though it was open. The couple at the top laughed, and said, "This is your place now! You don't have to ring the bell!"

When I got to the top, I looked around. It was so empty. They looked a little sad, saying they were kind of nostalgic, then handed me a jingling key ring. They told me about the neighbor below, about the wine tasting party they'd just had next door, and about the temperature in wintertime. "Well, you have the keys now, so you can lock up," they told me, and after telling me to email them anytime, their little red car drove down the street.

I was too excited to think about going back in until I got in my car. The thought of that empty apartment waiting on me made me almost turn around. "Be an adult, Erika," I had to keep repeating. So I dropped the rent check off at the main office. I got home and took a shower. I watched TV. And the entire time, I thought about the layout of the kitchen. That refrigerator door is going to be a problem. I wonder what size rug will be best for the landing. What about the microwave?

I will try to keep it together tomorrow and act somewhat sullen and detached as if I've done this a million times. But I have a feeling I will be up at dawn, cramming clothes and dishes into my car, pulling my hair up and putting on old clothes.

I've never felt more like an adult and a kid at the same time. I'm happy, scared, and excited for the new place- all it is now and all it will be soon.

The last night here...the streets are wet from yesterday's storms, the air is blowing in from the open window, and boxes full of printer paper and computer manuals are sitting beside me. It's still a little sad leaving the second time around.

Goodbye, Willard.