Thursday, February 12, 2015

I’m in a different place tonight. I don’t mean this in some deep metaphysical sense, either, so much as the fact that I’m literally sitting in a different apartment, on a different side of the tollway, with my possessions largely unpacked in the wake of an uncannily smooth moving experience. It is quiet here to the point where time itself seems to dilate, such is the focus afforded, and that’s amazing.

There are restaurants, a cupcake shop, a Cinemark, a fountain, a library, and even some greenery, all within walking distance. When the decisions you’re tasked with making on a lazy, sunny Saturday involve lunch menu comparisons, followed by whether you should order food before or after the later matinee showing of a movie, it feels like you’ve landed in the very cradle of first-world problems.

The building itself seems to hail from an earlier, simpler era. Recycling? Let nature and untold millennia worry about separating glass from paper, because all trash goes down one chute. Computer nook? These floor plans can’t be bothered. “But where should I put my desktop?” I wondered aloud while surveying my options. “Uh, maybe back in 2007,” remarked the Professor, unhelpfully.

It is the kind of place where you can wield a WD-40 in one hand, screwdriver in the other, and feel like you’re crushing it in home improvement. I’ve got to knock out now to prep for– Well, I’ll just have to tell you next week when we discuss how online dating, brunch, and Pacific Rim intersect in ways you’d never guess.

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