Saturday, Nov. 18, 2023 - 9:47 pm.
I'm home. We're home. We've finally moved into our apartment. I've gone with the flow the last couple of weeks, getting things done and just barely stopping to take a breath. Moving clashed with the yearly research fair at our uni, too, and with the general madness that is the second semester of the year. But I'm here, finally getting an entry done to say we've made it.
We're very happy with our place. Andrew, the cats and I spent our first night here last Friday. We've been here for a week and it feels so much longer than that. It just feels right. We came and went to this apartment over the last couple of weeks as we moved some stuff, and it felt like coming home from day one when we got the keys.
I'm not going to go into the details of the last two weeks and how hectic everything was. Moving could have gone better, because the moving company sucked (it was like an uber for moving companies, really), but nothing was lost other than half a day. All of our stuff made it from one place to the other. And It's only until Thursday or Friday this week that I've felt my head space is clear and a bit more free to sit down, take a break, and begin building a routine.
I seem to have forgotten how to even write an entry in this diary. My mind is blank. It's probably the first time it's been like this for maybe over a month. We spent a lot of mental energy keeping track of purchases, expenses and to-do lists.
But now I'm writing from my new studio (hollaaaa). It has an amazing view and it's much bigger than the one I had in the other apartment. I even feel more compelled to sit down and write or draw in this one. I have a view from a 10th floor into a good portion of the city, and the first thing I see from the window is a huge-ass tree, as high as our own apartment, in which lots of ibis-like birds nest and laugh. And at least during this time of the year, I can see both the dawn and the sunset from my bedroom window.
I shouldn't get too comfortable in my studio, though. If we are deemed fit to adopt*, my studio would be our child's bedroom. Then I'd move my desk into Andrew's studio, which is the second biggest room in our apartment and has plenty of space for two desks.
*We haven't heard from the adoption office. We met with the psychologist who reassessed us two weeks ago (did I mention this already? I can't be bothered to go and check). While she wasn't allowed to give us the full report, she said she recommended we were considered for adopting one child, as oppossed to adopting siblings, something we were open to. The psychologist said we might not be psychologically prepared to deal with the double challenge. Look, being recommended to adopt one child is the fucking baseline, and what we've been aiming for all along, so that's OK! But the adoption office still has the last word on whether we're good to go or not, and we haven't heard from them.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to going back to our routine. Or making our own here. We've walked to work this week, we've also taken the car. It depends on the weather and our schedules at uni. We still have to adjust to not living across the street, finish unpacking and set everything up. That won't be until December, though, when we get new furniture. We're getting the kitchen redone like a proper couple of affluent white heteros, but fuck it, treat yo'self. I'm bleeding money these days, but if there's gonna be a time in life to blow my lifetime savings is now.
(I'll still have some savings left! For emergencies! But hopefully there won't be any!).
My family's fine, thankfully. So are my friends, overall. I'm still paying attention to the news, with a latent fear in the back of my mind about how things can go to shit so fast and so deeply. But I bring myself back to the moment and say I'm OK. Because I'm more than OK. I can get anxious and heartbroken and pissed off at genocides and dictatorships and animal cruelty and everything else, and keep myself informed and do whatever I can... and also, I can enjoy my life. I can find joy and things to be grateful for all around me. This keeps me sane and it keeps me going.
I'm still beat from the last few weeks. We still have to do numbers and check stuff we need to buy and adjustments to make. But the hardest part is over. I bought an apartment. My mom, conservative as she is, wishes I'd say *we* bought an apartment, my husband and I, bound by God to be one flesh; but it was all *my* money. It was my life savings. God knows it and Andrew will be the first one to tell you that. Finding ourselves a home has been a joint effort and we make the best team you could dream of; but money-wise, it all came from me. And I say it because I worked hard for those savings and I'm proud of what I've accomplished with them.
Last Wednesday, it was our 9th(!) wedding anniversary. We like to say we gave ourselves the apartment as a gift. We're so happy. We can do what we want with the place. We're finally home.
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