A New Home in Citrus Heights

Here’s the good news: we’re out of the MDPOE. Thank goodness. We couldn’t wait to leave that place, so we packed up our stuff and checked out Tuesday morning before I drove Andrew to work. Goodbye and good riddance to that soulless place.

Now we have a new home, in Citrus Heights. It is a truly lovely apartment, one we very well may have chosen even in another city. It's a studio, but larger than a NYC studio, and there's a fireplace, a nice little deck on which we're permitted to put a grill, a pool, and a 'clubhouse' with exercise equipment, a sauna, and a pool table. It is nice to have our suitcases in one place, to know that housekeeping isn’t going to knock early in the morning; yet I hesitate to unpack completely, since we may be leaving soon. And though it’s definitely a good thing that we’re here instead of in another hotel, a new set of problems have arisen that almost drove me to a breakdown Tuesday morning in Target.

The main problem is this: this apartment is unfurnished, and we’re loathe to buy anything to furnish it until we know for sure we’re staying for at least the three months we’re supposed to. It is entirely possible that we’ll be leaving within a week or so. It doesn’t make sense to buy a bed and table, dishes and sheets, when we might just have to pitch them in a few days. But we can’t not buy them, either, because what are we supposed to do? We have to sleep on something. We have to have something to eat off of. We have to have a lamp. So I went to Target with the intention of getting the basics. But as I filled my cart with good Target deals—an entire 16-piece set of plates for $10, a floor lamp on sale for $5—I kept thinking about all the plates and lamps I already own, stored in the attic in Connellsville. I have far nicer things than what I put in my cart and paid for. We’re in a black hole of needless but necessary spending right now. And let’s not even talk about the rental car.

It’s an impossible task, this furnishing-but-not-furnishing, but we’re making slow progress. We have an air mattress to sleep on, and two stools for the kitchen counter so we have a place to sit. Nonetheless, we’re in a kind of quasi-life, here but not here, still unsure of where we’ll be this weekend, next week, the week after. We should, hopefully, know something soon.

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