We moved into our new apartment at the end of March but I’ve yet to fully process the fact that we don’t live in our old one anymore; I didn’t realize this until we decided to leave but living there was the safest and most in control of my surroundings I think I’ve felt, like, ever. Pssshhheww. (That’s the sound of everyone’s minds blowing.) (Our technical first apartment was objectively terrible so for me at least the apartment we just left felt like my real first home without roommates (stressful) or family members (see: roommates) or, say, a company of marines.)

I loved our insanely cheap rent and I loved our fire escape and our bathroom tile and I loved the light in the living room and the pink siding and just. I really loved it. Plus I quit smoking, hopped on the SSRI train, got engaged, started therapy (then stopped but ugh I’ll finish it later), and finally started earning a living wage during the threeish years we lived there. I also figured out what a 401K actually is and started caring about things like credit and undereye cream. Also like created a human life or whatever but I don’t want to brag. #blessed but #humble you know?

Anyway I was good and attached to the life we built there so when Diego found a bigger place in the same neighborhood I wanted to be sadder about saying goodbye. But since it’s so close to our old place that my routines/commutes are exactly the same and because I work full time and have a bb Joe and a need to leave the house socially once in a (great big) while to avoid inward collapse, I haven’t been forced to make any big adjustments or think thoughts or name feelings so I just. Haven’t. And also, maybe I’m just not that sad about it. Maybe I’m like “Okay, any minute now I will be overcome by sadness” but then I’m like “No, me, I’m not. I’m fine.”

Here’s the thing about talking about it though, is that it’s a great thing to do instead of making a decision on a pattern of removable wallpaper for the corner of your new kitchen and then figuring out a way to cover up the ugly light fixture in there because you don’t feel like buying a new one. Also if you blog about it it’s a great excuse to post a few pictures of bb Joe’s nine-month birthday weekend and tell everyone how even though you do, in fact, understand how calendars work you still do not understand how it is possible that you have a daughter who is three-quarters of a year old.