In many ways I consider this North End apartment to be my first real apartment. It’s the first time that I’ve thoughtfully considered furniture before buying it. I made most of the curtains. Most of the wall art was made for each room specifically. But, I’m packing it all up. I just bought boxes on Amazon so that makes it pretty official.
On Monday, I hired my first exterminator. There are many things that I can deal with in life – but mice are not one of them. I. Just. Can’t. We’ve been having “issues” here since January-ish. Issues that I tried to both ignore and get action on all once. It’s hard to ignore the polite little scratching that I was hearing while watching Sunday night TV. Apparently exterminators are only allowed to be hired by landlords? This seems implausible but several companies turned me down despite my begging. “Johnny B from Southie” most definitely heard the desperation in my voice … but thankfully didn’t charge me a desperation inspired price.
I’m not totally sure what I’m going to do yet – but I texted my adorable married friends who own a moving business… and that’s a great first step. The idea of packing up all the stuff in my apartment seems simple and daunting all at once. How did I end up with three arm chairs and 34 spatulas? Also, I get a lot of magazines. That is a lot of addresses to change.
BUT, I feel like recognizing it’s time to move is part of the battle. In some ways, it makes me feel oddly mature. Like, I can’t possibly turn 31 in an apartment where I wouldn’t want to use the tub for a bath. I’ll love this apartment for all the things that were cute and quirky … but I won’t necessarily miss all of them. The apartment magic is gone.
BTW – that picture is of the exterminator in my closet. It reminded me of how different this apartment looks since the first day I saw it Labor Day 2011. I’ll be sure to examine the closets of any new apartment with the same enthusiasm that David the exterminator did this week.
