Tag Archives: apartment

Humbled

I’m humbled after this weekend.

On all accounts.

First – the move.

Oh, the move.

But we must back up to day-before-the-move when Stephanie has a melt down. I took a half day from work to prepare myself and run around town getting msc. moving things done. Then, I decided to go ahead and move my kitchen by myself. It was going well until I realized that there was no way it was all going to get done. Ever. And what if no one showed up on Saturday? And if they do show up would  they hate me and my worldly goods for existing? And why was I doing this again? And is this place really bigger and nicer than the last?  And so on.

Then the boyfriend came over so that we could see one another for an hour or so before I took him to the airport and he tried to calm me down, but it didn’t help that there was a mysterious beeping coming from somewhere seemingly in my apartment. Turns out it wasn’t my apartment. It was the upstairs apartment. And it sounded like her carbon monoxide detector.

So we got out of there. (With Gertie)

On the way to take him to the airport (in the snow – which I hate!), I was trying to get a hold of my apartment manager and figure out what should be/could be done. She tells me it’s ok and so I return home.

But it’s really cold. And getting colder. But I decide not to worry about it so I took a Tylenol P.M. and hit the sack. A few hours later she’s standing in my living room shouting my name. I drowsily wake up and stumble out.

She tries to tell me she turned off the heat b/c she couldn’t live with herself if it was carbon monoxide. Can I check into a hotel?

Um, not really. I’m kind of drugged.

I convince her I’m ok and I put on a stocking cap and return to bed, making sure Gertie is covered up with me.

Moving day: I shiver out of bed and hit the ground running.

Is anyone going to come?

After I took Gertie to the boyfriend’s mom’s house, I recieved the first of many calls that day.

Ben. Melissa. Justin. My parents – both of them. The boyfriend’s brother. His friend.

It was unreal. I coudn’t believe all these people would come help me carry my stuff into my new place.

I purchased the two largest pizzas I have ever seen and some beer for the troops. By the time I returned from that, the move was done. My dad was still busycleaning out my fridge from the old apartment and installing my nice shower head in my new bathroom.  Aside from that, everything was done.

It was amazing. I still have things to organize, but to have all the stuff moved was such a load off my shoulders.

To all who helped, I can’t thank you enough!

A few hours later, the boyfriend called and said he had won his card tournament. As part of his prize, he was able to pick out some details that may be used on a future card. He wanted my input so that the card could reflect a little of me. Again, an honor. 

My dad came over yesterday and helped me hang pictures.

All in all, it went infinitely better than I expected. And now I’m home again.

Gertie, on the other hand, is a little confused as to what happened when she went to play with Lily for a day.

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Choices

I like them. I need them to function.

I’m quite like a two-year-old in that regard.

Example:

Stephanie, do you want to go for a run?

Um, not really.

Or, do you want to have thighs full of cellulite from all that cheese you ate the other night.

Um, YES! Sign me up for that run!

See how easy that is? It’s all about perceived value, folks.

Today, I opened up the work freezer. Blech. Frozen mediocrity.

Oooh, but there were multiple options! I had my choice of:

Beans and Rice, Tuna Gratin, a Lean Pocket or Baked Ziti.  I took each box and laid it out on the counter. Now we were talking  a full menu of mediocrity. I paced back and forth debating my selection carefully.

Tuna Gratin it was.

Yum num num.

All of this is to say that I have given a select group of people the choice of whether or not to help me move on Saturday…

(groan. you knew I was going there, didn’t you?)

And so when they show up , I’ll know it was because they chose to. They could be doing anything on Saturday morning: watching T.V., sleeping in, running…but on Saturday morning, they will be there with bells on to lift, push, pull and shove me into my new space.

So, dear readers, I present you a choice:

Do you want to help Stephanie move?

or,

Do you want me to…

I should have mentioned that there is a fine line between a choice and a threat. I may have to rethink this strategy.

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Oily

When I came home this morning from the boyfriend’s, I walked into a mess.

Half- asleep, I almost didn’t notice it, but Gertie went straight to her water dish and wanted, guess what? Water. I sleepily turned on the faucet and poured water into the special Gertie water pitcher I keep for such a task. When I leaned back from the sink, I noticed my t-shirt (one of my favorites–pink ring neck with a bedazzled tummy Buddah that reads “Buddaful”) was covered in what I thought was water.

What the heck?

I automatically looked up. Clearly my neighbors must have a leak that is seeping water down into my kitchen. Grrrr.

Hmmm…..that’s odd.

Then I realized, with horror, what it was.

Oil.

Canola oil to be precise.

The entire bottle of it.

The bottle that I placed on its side in my cabinet last night to make room for all my other groceries.

Oil, oil everywhere.

This was not good.

An hour and a half of sopping it up with paper towels, mopping on my hands and knees with liquid dish soap and warm water and throwing out msc…oil soaked items (including my toaster — hey, bright side, more counter space!), it’s still not completely gone. But at least I could leave the apartment with Gertie in it and not worry about her safety.

I decided that there was another bright side.

Living alone means that no one can get mad at you when you do really stupid things. It’s kind of nice.

But then again, there’s no one to help you clean up your mess either.

Oh well.

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Nostalgia

As the weather cools, it’s finally starting to feel like fall. And to kick it off, I’m making Chili tonight for the boyfriend. Yum.

But early this afternoon I was remembering a year ago today. It was my last day at a job that I hated. I was leaving to look for new opportunities and I was terrified, but at the same time elated.

Today: I have two business trips this month and I’m just elated.

I was planning the cooking demonstrations with the American Royal Barbecue for the first time.

I’m planning them for the second time, and I’m probably equally stressed, but not for the unknown…

Did I mention I was looking for a job?

Have I mentioned how much I love my job?

I was living in a big house in the suburbs with my two dogs.

It’s just me and Gertrude now.  In our closet-sized apartment. And it sure isn’t in the suburbs.

I was running sporadically.

I’m running three to four times a week now.

 I was married.

You should know by now that I’m not.

I was in desperate need of a cut and color.

Oh, ok, some things never change.

So bring on the fall. Let’s make some new memories!

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Update on eeeeeeeeee

At lunch I went home to let Gertie out . (I’m meeting the dog sitter extroidainaire — Ging– and J for late birthday Margaritas after work!!!)

So Gertie is doing her thing, which is stalling out for the most possible walk before she does her business. But I have outsmarted her. Mwahahaha. I have found a special place even she can’t resist.

This place requires that I walk by the office to get back home. The maintenance man (Scott, if you are reading –the one you think is hot.) comes out and asks me if I’m going straight to my car after my walk.

First thought: Oh crap. Did I park in someone else’s spot? (Why do I always think I’m in trouble?!)

Me: Um, yeah.

MM: Cool, well I’ll come out and fix your belt. Meet you at your car.

Me: Stuttering a little. Um, awesome!?

Sure enough, he sprayed some stuff on it and squeaking stopped.

Have I mentioned how much I love my apartment?

Yah, sorry Ernie. No dollars for you.

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