They are coming today to take pictures. Pictures of my apartment. To post for the listing. So that someone can love my home so much that they want to make it their own. I won’t be living here much longer if this plan is successful. Homelessness seems to be the immediate goal. And then I can think about important matters like how much bubble wrap I will need for an extraordinarily heavy Nambe vase I once dubbed “The Spouse Killer” (wishful thinking really), and if it’s worth packing a half-used bottle of Aveeno body wash or dragging extra paper plates. Each item will be individually scrutinized and judged. What will make the cut? I think the coat closet is probably having a mild panic attack, but the underwear drawer is resting easy. My CD collection is most certainly on the chopping block and the Wii set my son hasn’t used in eight years will be tossed or donated.
The Nambe “Spouse Killer” Vase
I did a camp-like white glove inspection early this morning as I made my rounds. Helene who ruled Raquette Lake Girls Camp when I was a teenager would have been proud of my attention to detail! I picked up micro lint and shined up the counters and faucets, a quarter would certainly have bounced from my bed and my mirrors were all now streak free. When they gently rapped on the front door to shoot the pictures, I was ready. It was just G and a slim fellow in a mask named D with a tripod, digital camera and mini iPad. They maneuvered around the space with ease as G commented on the great light and the artwork. He told me to think of prices I’d be willing to accept for the furniture and furnishings in case someone wants everything as is. Wow. Someone could buy this place and all my things and live my life here without me? The feeling was invasive, and I started to cry.
Matty slept until 2:40 this afternoon; even after I shuffled him into my room temporarily so they could photograph his room, and then back again to his bed when they were through. That kid is an A+ sleeper. I made him Meal One at about 3pm. (We stopped using the names breakfast, lunch, and dinner when he started sleeping past noon and was upset that he missed “breakfast.” So I came up with the idea that Meal One, eaten not long after wakefulness takes hold, can be whatever suits your fancy; be that eggs, a grilled chicken sandwich on toasted whole wheat with melty pepper jack cheese, a bacon burger and fries or a smoothie with a side of nachos.)
Meal One
• Eggs
• Grilled chicken sammie on toasted whole wheat
• Bacon burger & fries
• Fruit smoothie
• Nachos grande
• Chocolate chip pancakes
Meal One today was pancakes with a light smattering of chocolate chips about 3pm and we watched MSNBC in horror together as domestic terrorists stormed the US Capital. This country is going to shit. Maybe I should move out of the country instead of just to the south? Michael would love to move back to France anyway.
Matty took the train back to New Jersey at 5. It wasn’t a very long visit. He’s supposed to be driving back to school next week, so he needs to pack up. But he might change his mind and stay since in person classes don’t start for another few weeks. I miss him already. I shuffled back into my room after he left to stare out my bedroom window at the quiet afternoon of the City, my City for now. How many times will he be back in this house before he leaves? How many more days will my house actually be mine? I love you, New York.
jenslittleblackbook.com 