What is it about mundane everyday tasks that make you feel like an adult? Things like changing a tire and cooking soup, buying household items like toasters and microwaves and making and keeping doctor’s appointments. Or in my case, going to a laundromat alone for the first time ever in my life.
I know right? I’m now a total badass.
I honestly don’t know how I’ve made it this long without ever having to do this on my own., but here I am, logging in my first ever solo trip to the laundromat. And like a big girl I let the kind laundromat attendant do everything for me except put in and take out my clothing. He adjusted all the dials and the settings. I don’t know, maybe that’s how it’s done in Turks and Caicos? When Eric was teaching me to navigate a laundromat back home when our washer died, he had to push all the buttons himself. He put the tokens in and everything.
I did kinda fuck up a bit because I made an extra load so that my gym clothes wouldn’t be in with my regular clothes because they aren’t supposed to have fabric softener, but then I forgot the fabric softener for all of the loads anyway. So there was a wasted $4.50 for that unnecessary load.
Oh, did I mention that doing laundry is apparently pretty damn expensive? Between washing and drying it cost me $50, and that’s in USD for all those who are unaware.
I did see a service at the laundromat I went to today where you can apparently drop your clothing off and then come back to pick them up already washed dried AND folded. I don’t know how much that costs but you better believe I’ll be doing that next time.
Anyways, I’m proud of myself. I’m here doing shit and things. I even came home and unpacked a second box from my move. My apartment should be fully unpacked by Christmas at this rate!
Yeah. I know. I fell off.
But between moving and traveling and my dad having a mild stroke in the past few days life has been doing plenty.
I’m tired fam. And stressed. So there it is.
There are boxes and suitcases strewn all over the place. My whole life packed up, not so neatly. Walls bare and white and void of any personality in a place to be lived in temporarily.
But for now, I’m exhausted and the task of now unpacking all the things that I put away, just a few hours ago looms darkly over my head. So tonight, I’ll sleep for the first time in a place that is foreign to me. And I’ll wake up in the morning, dazed and confused with the light streaming through windows and coming from the wrong direction.
Tonight I’ll go to bed on new sheets with old comforts around me. Home, I’ll call it, like I’ve called 4 other places in the last 17 months. No rest for the weary, or the wicked, depending on who you’re asking. and oh! am I weary. Of packing and unpacking, learning and unlearning new places and spaces. Soon it will become my refuge from the world and from prying eyes. I’ll come in and close the door and strip down to my real self. Maybe in time, I’ll even come to love it.
This move was so complicated. From transportation issues, to working a 12-8 shift during the move to my absolute abhorrence of packing to hardly having any help. This was a total nightmare.
I hate this shit. I hate packing. I hate moving. I hate unpacking. I hate that I’m not in love with my new apartment. I hate having to clean two entire apartments.
I have been seriously considering becoming a minimalist just to cut back on all of the shit that I do have to pack and unpack. I’ve been reading material and watching documentaries and YouTube videos on the subject.
I need to be able to pack up my whole life into 4 boxes. I hate that I think I need all this stuff to be happy or comfortable. I cranky as hell right now and I’m unhappy. It’s nearly 12am and I have to clean.
Ugh. I’m so over it!!
Packing the night before you have to move is a bad idea. You heard it here first.
I do wonder sometimes if you are where you said you are. And if you’re there, who are you with? What are you doing? Who are you talking to? What are you saying to them?
I worry sometimes that this is too good to be true. This only happens in movies right? Happens to other people never to me.
There is a constant internal struggle between “allow free love” and “gain total control of love”. I want you to be you and live your best life, but I want you to be you,while walking next to me; only me.
The voices are always talking now. They are always in my head questioning everything. Checking and rechecking and needing constant assurances. “It’s been two hours, Ajay, do you know where YOUR husband is?”
Sometimes it’s hard to drown out the noise, but I know it’s not impossible. The doubts can be silenced. And it helps when you calm my fears and patiently, I hope, reassures me.
But, what would happen if I do begin to believe that good things, great things, can happen for me too?
This morning, I got up and as I was heading to the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m like “hey girl, you looking a little skinty today. Them squats must be working.”
I’m there in the mirror, checking out myself at angles, looking to see if my booty grew as much as my waist shrunk. I grab my phone, took a pic on my Snapchat (with filters of course cause like, its first thing in the morning) and I send a little teaser over to Pretty Boy.
He replies, I giggle. Life goes on.
Then I get a snap message from my girl Tammy. “You sending accidental nudes?” I’m here confused like, “Tf Tammy talking abo..?”
Realization dawns. Holy. Shit.
I check my Snapchat and see that my cute little peek show had been sent to a few people on my snap. And there is no recall button.
Including my nephew.
“HOLY SHIT!” I’m messaging everyone like “OH MY GOD, I’M SO SORRY!” I’m deadass laughing hysterically at this point cause option two was gonna be tears.
I message my sister frantically.
Just my luck, she sees my messages literally the same time my nephew is freaking out over my snaps.
I’m caught somewhere between panic, mortification and pure amusement. Then my friend Luke calls, “Ummmmmm…” Now there is this whole awkward conversation about how those really weren’t meant for you. And no, I’m actually not coming on to you, and yes, I really should get back into the gym.
Anyways, long story short, be careful before you hit “send” on Snapchat or one day, you too, may be the topic of your nephew’s therapy session and the punchline of your WhatsApp chat with your girls.