To that deluxe apartment in the sky

For all the thought and Craigslist stalking that went into finding the perfect apartment, there was very little fanfare once we actually landed one. A quick email from the landlord, a PDF of the lease, and a ‘see ya July 1’ signoff.

With all due respect sir, you’re putting a damper on what is possibly the most freeing day of my life. Would a banner in the sky announcing my acceptable credit have killed you?

Of all the things I’m most excited about, I think returning to a city with a walking culture tops the list. I really miss strolling for a coffee, or to a grocery store. I miss walking to bars, I miss walking to absolutely nowhere. No one walks anywhere in the ‘burbs unless they are wearing $90 yoga pants and trailing behind a fluffy white dog in a princess collar (Daisy, my family’s live-in diva, would fit this mold if she didn’t sit down in the middle of the street after one block).

I wish I could make you all jealous with my apartment’s awesome location but just know that it’s in _______ (hip young neighborhood) near _________ (specific body of water) that allows me to run a perfect 5k from my door around the _________ (body of water) back to my door. The ability to exercise so easily will come in handy once I have my first taste of ________ (baked good) from __________ (famous local bakery that will soon be the reason for my 15-lb weight gain).

Hello, lover

“Do you know this is going to be the best week of my LIFE?!” I asked BF seven times last night as I then repeatedly ticked off all my planned events. Apartment lease, the JAMES TAYLOR/CAROLE KING concert tonight with my parents, a Twins/Yankees night game on Thursday, digging deep into a sweet freelancing gig on my downtime. I haven’t seen this much action or good news in... Ever.

You can’t see me but I’m simultaneously knocking on wood and fist pumping right now. It’s the superstitious adult version of rubbing your stomach and patting your head.