Moving Days

Here in Madison, as probably in many other large university towns, there is a special season of time when every curb has abandoned desks and drawers, every apartment complex is proclaiming “FOR RENT!” and the availability of boxes decreases exponentially . . . It’s moving season: all the leases are up either August 1 or August 15th. 

Suddenly, I have arrived at this point where I have only a week left in my apartment.  Oh yes, it’s yet another “significant time in my life.”  There have been a lot of those this year—which isn’t surprising when it’s your first big move to a new city.  Sometimes it makes me nauseous, spending another week in my life feeling the weight and significance of yet another milestone, the grind of times’ gears . . . ehhh, you know what I’m saying. 

I remember when I first got into this apartment.  The first night I fell asleep in my own bed with no parents or friends to think about.  I remember when Dave finally got there, and how unreal and wonderful it felt to have his parents leave and it just be the two of us, off and sleeping away our first night together in Madison.  I think we both had a lot of miscellaneous hopes and dreams for our life together.  I don’t need to get into what they were, especially not now. 

I’m in all honesty very glad to get out of my apartment.  I’ve got a big problem with places getting too haunted for me.  Hiram College was that way, what with every walkway walked a hundred times and every bench the seat for some undergrad drama.  Home in West Virginia is even worse.  And this apartment makes me uneasy.  At best, I’ve had some good night’s sleep.  That first night was pretty nice.  But now it’s crowded and messy and every once and awhile I open the door and say “Hellooo!” and imagine there’s Dave popping out from behind the column to yell “NEEEewwwt!” 

Last time I was home, mom said that friends are there for you when times are hard, but they expect you to get over things, and when you do, they expect you to move on.  Once again, she’s right.  And I have moved on.  But I do go back every once and awhile.  And these times of great change are big on the going back.  You want to go back to where you understood what you had and what you wanted, and the value of those things. 

So I’m getting ready to move.  I’m changing addresses and utility bills and such.  Getting ready to put things into boxes.  I’m sorry the references are so heavy-handed.  But things are looking up.  This is never easy, so I’ll just see you all on the other side of the week, no?