First Night on the Floor

No furniture, no bed—just me on the floor of an empty room in a place that is now mine. The furniture arrives Monday. Last night I slept there for the first time anyway, which was both physically miserable and the best feeling I’ve had in months. I kept walking from room to room for no reason, just pacing the empty space like I was trying to commit it to memory. There may have been something in my eye.

Thomi and Sven hauled my stuff across town in the middle of the night—the kind of selfless, no-questions-asked help you only get from people who genuinely like you. I owe them more beers than is medically advisable. Then this morning I had to be up at five to go back to the old place, clean it top to bottom, hand over the keys, and make it to work. The body runs on adrenaline when the situation is sufficiently chaotic.

Next week I’m on holiday—the kind where you don’t go anywhere, you just finally deal with your life. Becca’s coming to help me paint. Cedric’s moving a dentist appointment to help carry furniture up the stairs on Monday, and I’m aware that is an actual sacrifice. Everyone else shows up for the housewarming, which has a theme I can’t adequately explain here, and which counts as helping by any reasonable definition.

The internet takes three to six weeks to arrive, apparently, so I’ll be offline for a while. Unless I manage to crack a neighbor’s WiFi, which I’m treating as a practical question rather than a moral one. Happy Halloween—we’ll probably be at the Knaack if you’re in Berlin. If not, do yourself a favor and watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, Corpse Bride, and Sweeney Todd back to back. All three in a row is the only correct way to spend the night.