We have left The Hole. The tiny apartment that my wife and I have shared since our October wedding. You know, I’m going to miss it a little. And yes, I mean that.
But wait, Venable…what about the pitter-patter of two-year-old, no three-year-old, no four-year-old…oh forget it. They changed the kid’s age every time we attempted to make peace with the waif from upstairs. Yes, I remember the sound like a herd of baby elephants above my head. I also remember the sounds of the mommy-daddy dance above our heads at varying hours of the early-early-morning. And yes, by the way, I am trying to set a personal record for use of hyphenated words.
The fact is, it’s the apartment my wife was living in when I met her. I’ll always remember it, because it was a part of my life and the biggest life change I’ve ever experienced to date. So yeah, I’m going to miss it a little.
So The Hole is in our past. Finally. It was a long time coming. We vowed to move the moment that the upstairs became ocupada. I thought we’d never get out, to be honest. But then Thursday, everything just exploded. I swear, it’s like everything that Katie and I do is a freaking whirlwind. Our romance, and now the moving.
So here’s how it went down. Thursday, Katie texts me from work that says, “Urgent news…..on my way home.”
Annnnd my heart skips a beat. About forty-seven different tragic scenarios ran through my head. I quickly texted back, asking if everything was OK, and she responds, “Excellent. Pack your bags.”
And I started breathing again. Still light-headed, I ask her to explain it when she got home. It only really dawned on me what she meant when she walked through the door. She said, “the landlord found someone for the apartment.” I smiled, and for a beat, all was right with the world. And then, that moment was over.
Everything just leapt into a flurry of activity, like the stock exchange scene in Trading Places. Phone calls were made. Furious typing of addresses into Google Chrome (yeah, I’m pimping for Google…shoot me), scribbling of notes, papers flying everywhere, onto the floor near where Katie was talking to everyone under the Dallas skyline, and spewing out of the printer near my location at the studio desk.
In a matter of 45 minutes (make a note of that time-frame), we had chosen an apartment, applied for it, been remotely approved, changed the addresses and account information for the bank, electricity, water, cable, Amazon account (because you gotta have priorities), newspaper, magazine subscriptions, the US Postal Service permanently forwarded to the new address, and made an appointment for a new cable installation at the new place…for the next day. God was smiling upon this new endeavor, all right. How in the world else can you explain starting new cable service in downtown Dallas on Thursday and get an installation appointment on Friday morning? The answer is, “you can’t.”
And remember. This all happened in forty. Five. Minutes.
Seriously. That just happened. And we collapsed on the couch together, laughing about the stroke of good luck and blessings. And then, in the middle of relaxing for about five minutes, I got an e-mail. Katie had gotten a voiceover gig. I just laughed. Like a madman. And I turned to smile at my wife. She just said, “What?!”
I told her.
Then it was her turn to cackle like a madwoman. And we realized we needed to get our butts in gear, because we had to be out of The Hole by Monday. *facepalm*
So the madness begun. And long story shorter, we got it done. Stuff moved, old place cleaned out and cleaned up. And my hands hurt so bad from all the scrubbing on cabinets and drip pans. Oiy.
So here we are. New place. New studio (ugh, more re-tuning). New chapter in our lives. Lots to organize…I mean, we almost have double the square footage.
And we couldn’t be happier. Peace out.