an unproductive productive day(s)

What a weird couple of days.  Cool, in the “I-don’t-have-to-work-so-I-can-do-pretty-much-whatever-I-want” way of a single gal, but weird in that, despite all that I did, I didn’t really accomplish much.  Unless you count being one load of laundry and a few stray electronics away from totally emptying my old apartment as an accomplishment.

In the course of zipping back and forth ‘tween chez old and chez nouveau, I’ve come across some weirdness.  Like a car driving down the wrong way on the road to my old apartment (heart failure, anyone??).  Or the guy coasting down the hill on a too-small bike, puffing away on a cigarette while giving me a charming smile ‘n nod.  Or the AT&T tech who, after what felt like two hours on the phone last night, failed to tell me the simple fact that my cable was plugged into the wrong input.  Even after I ASKED.  Or when the AT&T repairman (who arrived at 11:54 when my appointment was between 8am and noon…seriously) discovered the aforementioned oversight, and then spent 20 minutes chatting me up while the system rebooted, giving me enough insight into his life for me know that he’s twice divorced, has 5 kids, served in the marine corps (medical discharge), likes Star Wars, and plans to get a 15-inch MacBook Pro (since, after all, his lap is bigger than mine, hence the need for a larger monitor).  Or the access road that wasn’t very accessible at all – forcing me to drive on a dirt road after having JUST washed my car. Harumph.

I shopped a lot, it seems, but didn’t buy much.  A bath mat is probably the most exciting of the purchases.  Some of my art/decor is beginning to fill the walls, but I really don’t want to put all that old, cheesy stuff up on those fresh surfaces.  The indecision of what piece of art/decor/furniture to buy is driving me insane, so I may just decide that a washer/dryer is the first purchase, and nothing else comes until that’s paid off. 

As I read this, it actually doesn’t sound all that weird.  Maybe what’s weird is this new space I’m calling home – as a friend said, it feels a bit like I’m living in a hotel room, not really in my own space.  I wonder when that’ll change.

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