and we're off

We're on the move again. I've had so much pent-up nervousness and restlessness lately. It doesn't get released, I just, well, eat. This is so completely unhealthy for me, because, people, I'm not sitting here munching on celery. What's the next best fix for me? Moving.

Yep, we're moving to yet another new apartment. I'm hoping that this will help abate my freaking internal turmoil. The move, while it may prove beneficial to me (I hope, I hope), was not my idea. While we were living in the house, we started to buy (used) furniture items. We turned to Craig's List for our three huge bookcases. We were lucky enough to also find an (proportionately huge) entertainment center, from someone else, that happened to match the bookcases. We scored a pretty close match in a desk at Goodwill, I think. We also bought bedroom furniture from Craig's List. Before, we only had the mattress and box springs on a metal frame, two thriftstore nightstands and a thriftstore dresser. The rest of our clothes, we piled up in the linen closet. We still have the nightstands and our bed, but we've added an armoir, dresser with a tri-fold mirror and a headboard.

Cardo suggested that we get rid of our furniture, but I had actually thought that we'd have it forever. Hopeless dreamer that I am, I tend to dream hopeless dreams (ha!). I still believe that one day we will have a house, a house with three bedrooms, a house that will be able to accomodate all of our much larger furniture. I don't want to get rid of our furniture. Anyhow, if we did that, we'd just have huge piles and piles of books every-freaking-where.

Anyhow, because I'm American, I feel that I can take up much more space than a person actually needs to get by. Instead of downsizing our possessions, we're upsizing our living space. At least for the next seven or so months. We made the snap decision to rent the just-available three-bedroom apartment at the end of the complex.

We've been unhappy with this apartment for several reasons. One: it's too small for all of our crap. Two: we have to keep a container in the back of the refrigerator to collect the nearly freezing water that pours down the back wall and collects on the bottom shelf (yes, we've had it "fixed"). Three: Pic's room always pretty well matches the outside temperature, no matter where we've set the thermostat. Four: our neighbors -- they've become much less obnoxious, but...ugh. Five: the apartment is narrow and suffocating.

So yes, people, this is what I do to solve my problems -- I run away (or take small little itty-bitty hops away...I've already lived in eight different residences in the same city in the last nine years). This time, the move was Cardo's idea, but I was pretty quick to jump on the moving truck.

Actually, I'm kind of freaking out about the move because I'll only definitely be employed until next May and then...quissa? We still don't know where I'll end up or where Pic and I'll end up or where the three of us will end up. (Can someone tell me, with absolute certainty, that I can get through a PhD in less than five years without killing myself (in both the figurative and literal senses)?)

Okay, so please, feel free to judge us for not being able to adapt to the space we're in. After that, please give me some reassurances. Finally, please offer assistance to help us get from this two-story apartment, across the complex to a second-floor apartment (I know, I know, but it's the only one they have available and it was just serendipity that we walked into the office incredibly shortly after the soon-to-be-previous tenant put in her 30-day notice). The assistance is greatly needed seeing as though my recently-having-suffered-a-heart-attack* husband and my three-year-old aren't going to be all that much assistance no matter how much they'd like to be.

On an unrelated, much less stressy and completely pointless note: I'm watching this movie called Dear Me: A Blogger's Tale. I thought, "Hey, I might like that. I've never heard of it, but I'll give it a try." It's kind of (really) annoying, at least so far. However, I'll go finish watching it because I'm a pretty useless human being these last few weeks.

* Cardo suffered from stress cardiomyopathy (it has many, many names, people), but the doctor's described it as basically being a heart attack that didn't leave permanent damage. This is just too much to explain every single time, even when I'm just talking to myself.