Cough cough. It’s a little dusty in here, isn’t it?
Five weeks have come and gone since I hit the “publish” button, and an explanation is in order.
Shocking even ourselves, Mike and I decided to move over the last month. This decision happened so quickly we could barely catch our bearings, much less document it. I do not exaggerate (well I do, but not in this case); let the timeline speak for itself: we posted our condo on Craigslist on a Sunday evening, showed the place to potential renters on Monday, offered the place to one renter on Tuesday, and signed papers that Saturday. On Sunday we toured a townhome to rent (the first place we looked at) and had our application in the next day. The following Friday we signed papers.
Bing. Bam. Boom.
If you remember anything about our previous move, you know that it went nothing like this. For instance, in our other move we actually discussed it for more than a day before pulling the trigger. In this case, it was more like tossing a coin in the air and shouting “move!” or “don’t move!” before it hit the ground.
At least that’s how it felt — the takeout pizza version. The gourmet lobster dinner version is that we’re absolutely sure that this was God showing off all over the place. He couldn’t be stopped. He took our one little hopeful dream of being able to rent our condo so we could rent a larger home and save up to eventually buy a house, and threw in ribbon, glitter and ponies. It was that extravagant.
Which is why we take credit for exactly none of it. If we’d masterminded this entire ordeal, it would have been an unmitigated disaster. Instead we just took a risk, prayedprayedprayed, watched closely for confirmations, and then saw it all come together.
Our tenant is a wonderful lady, a woman we are thrilled to have in our home. Plus she has no pets or kids, which really moved things in her direction. Our new home is in a location we love (still Kirkland) and has more space and features than we have any right having. Our first month of rent was free. Do you see where I’m going with this? Total show-off territory for Jesus.
Now we are settling in, which based on previous accounts, takes us all of about an evening. We’ve been in the new home just over a week, and everything is coming together. It’s very, very odd having more than one bedroom. It’s even odder having a staircase, and multiple doors that can separate us from each other.
“Mike?” I’ll say, fifteen times a day. “Where are you?”
“I’m upstairs, about to take a shower.”
“Oh,” I’ll say.
“Do you need something?” he’ll ask.
“No,” I reply, slinking away, “I just couldn’t hear or see you, and it’s weird…”
This is an extremely adjustable problem, and everyone says that soon I’ll have filled the house and won’t be able to imagine our former 860 square feet. But I never had a problem with our small condo; I loved it. I miss it, but I am so sure on a cellular level that this is where we are supposed to be. I’m excited, I’m decorating, I’m cooking, I’m shopping for home goods…it’s very strange when I can feel one phase of my life receding and another stepping forward. It’s even stranger when I like it.