The day is a blurr. I know I spent part of the morning tidying the loft, making it ready for an official move-in.
It is not clear why I need to “tidy an apartment” that is brand new (though within a brand old structure). I do know that the giant brick wall let go of brick dust and so going over window frames seemed crucial to my future happiness.
I have never in my life moved to a brand new interior before.
And, it has been more than 30 years since I moved entirely by myself. It allows for a deliberateness and an indulgance too. I carry things slowly, pensively, thinking about what it is that I am bringing in to this new space. No clutter permitted.
A blurr of wiping, installing phones and other mechanical devices, wandering around the place, liking its emptiness.
In that 3-story structure there is an elevator and I was so grateful that the extent of my carrying things was from truck to elevator to door. Shoes off, keep the place neat. I’ll be asking people to take their own garbage out, I just know it. You, sir! You have been drinking diet soda! Take that bottle out of here! It is polluting the garbage can!
People on the top floor of the building (this includes me) have been noticing an occasional black flake on their floors. I thought it looked like flecks of old tar. So long as it is inorganic, you know, like not a corpse of a little bug or something, I hardly care. I live under old beams and high wooden ceilings. You would think old ceilings release a tantalizing clue about their past every now and then.
All surfaces cleaned. Should I attack my office now? No, for God’s sake, let me just lay off of all the cleaning! Between getting the house ready for showings and getting the new place ready for habitation, I feel like I should not lie, that I should boldly state “sanitizing and polishing” as my main extracurricular activity.