Tonight is the last night I will sleep in this apartment that’s been home to me for two years. It’s been a decent home, but I’m upgrading to a place with a washer and dryer, a freezer that doesn’t have to be defrosted every 3 weeks, and, since it’s brand new, I’m hoping it’s got a little better insulation than this building that was built in 1989.
It’s a small change. I’m moving across town. Instead of being 2 minutes from my sister and 20 minutes from my parents, I’ll be 20 minutes away from my sister and 2 minutes away from my parents. Instead of taking 15 minutes to get to work, it’ll take 6. Instead of taking 20 minutes to get home after piano lessons, it’ll take 3.
There are so many plusses to this move, yet change is still uncomfortable.
And after this change, comes the inevitable social awkwardness of acclimating to a cadre of scholars for five weeks in Massachusetts.
MASSACHUSETTS! I don’t know anyone in Massachusetts! Am I on crack?
No, of course I’m not on crack.
I’m on change. And it’s not a very nice stimulant.