So, I’m in my new apartment.
Everything’s moved, almost all the art is hung, and…here I am.
It’s still a little weird. Whether it’s weird from not having James around, or from living alone for the first time, period–hard to say. Weird, though. Definitely weird.
The first night was pretty rough. I should probably have called someone, but I didn’t, because my sniveling was annoying to myself, let alone somebody else. Although I have plenty of friends and a coupla relatives who are very supportive and have told me repeatedly to call at any hour of the day or night, I still generally feel about midnight sob-fest calls the way I feel about muggings–they happen all the time, but it’s still an imposition. So James, who’s a pretty smart cookie, had our old buddy Alan call me. Alan’s a good guy, and also knows me better than anyone else I haven’t lived with, so that helped.
After that, it’s improved, and the addition of the internet helps a lot. (Distraction! Glorious distraction!)
Ben handled the move with his typical aplomb. I don’t know what kind of life he’s led, but I get the impression he’s moved around a lot. He scouted the apartment out with professional calm, took note of litterbox and food locations, identified the sunny spot by the window, and settled in.
He did have to make some adjustments–I only have a loveseat, rather than a couch, so when I take a nap on it now, his usual footwarmer position is not available. He now curls into a tight ball, like an armadillo, and fits himself into the space between my waist and the back of the loveseat. He’s got to be kind of squished, but apparently abandoning me during naptime is not to be considered.
On the bright side, from his point of view, there is now a whole full-sized bed with only one person in it. Ben approves of this. I woke up in the middle of the night to discover that I had been shoved over into the last quarter of the bed, about to fall out on the floor, while Ben took up most of the middle. While I am desperately grateful that Ben is around–having another living being around the place is worth a lot in terms of emotional support, particularly when they snuggle*–it would still be nice to have at least half the bed. Even a third. Is a third so much to ask?
*Less so, admittedly, when they decide to play “grapple-the-ankle” because they’re bored
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