Okay, fair warning. This post is not going to be happy and uplifting. I’m living in an empty apartment in a place where I don’t know a soul and – damn it! – I’m cranky. Like, even more cranky than normal.
How does one makes friends as an adult? Scratch that. How does one even make acquaintances as an adult? I’ve been in this apartment for four weeks and have only ever seen two other people who live on my floor. I can’t even positively say three out of the eight apartments that I walk past numerous times a day are even occupied. Is that normal? It’s been so long since I’ve lived in an apartment . . . maybe there is some special multi-family etiquette I’m forgetting. Where are those other random 30-somethings with kids whose wicked sense of humor is hidden by the nondescript appearance? There is a nice group of grandpas who hang out at Starbucks every morning, but that really isn’t my scene (nor am I their ideal new coffee-mate).
Now let’s talk about the dog.
The top two things I miss from the Arkansas house are 1) the couch and 2) the dog door. The couch will join me here eventually, but I’m going to have to leave without the easy access of a dog door. My dog is tiny, so I’ll assume his bladder is too. He hasn’t had to wait to go outside in at least a year and adjusting to this new schedule is a work in progress. I get that. I’m not always fast enough for him in the morning and it is difficult to do anything after work because I’m the only one here to go home and take him out. On his end, Marv tends to operate in extremes. He either tries to refuse to go out by rolling over for belly rubs while I’m trying to put on his harness or he waits by the door every hour because he is in the middle of a marking war with another little yappie dog named Stewie.
And don’t assume that refusing to go out means he doesn’t need to go to the bathroom. 99.8% chance he is just being lazy and will try to go in the corner when you aren’t looking.
Good thing he is cute. Otherwise I might trade him for a pizza.*
And for the icing on the cake – we had to borrow money. Ouch. I really hate not having enough to provide for my family. Makes me feel about two inches tall to have to ask for that kind of help. I mean, we are grown adults who make comfortable salaries . . . there should be enough. Not when selling a home, operating two households, and moving cross-country to one of the places with the highest cost of living in the U.S. Unfortunately.
I haven’t sat down and added up exactly how much this is costing us – no, I prefer to think about this is little chunks or I’d curl up on the couch and never take the leap – but it we haven’t already hit five figures it is coming very soon. And ya’ll, I’m tapped out. When the Arkansas mortgage and the California rent came due on the same day with only one California-level paycheck under our belt . . . well, there just wasn’t going to be enough.
It certainly doesn’t help that we weren’t at all prepared for this move. It was only 10 weeks between “remember that job I applied for? I’ve got an interview” to “get in the car, we’re leaving!” I really don’t recommend that. Money is flying out of our hands left and right. It is going to take quite a few skimpy months to recover (and don’t even mention building back up the savings). I don’t expect us to be really comfortable again until 2017.
Thinking long-term however, is much more promising. I’ve made a big leap in my career and the husband is about to reside in one of the best areas for his field. Services for the little man are going to explore and we’ll be able to send the daughter wherever she wants to go for college (::cough, cough:: Berkeley ::cough::).
It is the right move, but that doesn’t mean it is easy.
Well, I feel better already. Let’s all have a glass of wine and watch some YouTube.
**Looking for an inexpensive house in a bedroom community of Little Rock, Arkansas? Hit me up!