Now I lay me down to sleep..

…on an air mattress, in a cold drafty room.

I’m curled up on a small air mattress on the floor of what used to be a dining or living room, and I can hear the sound of raindrops beating my window, urgent at times, lazy at others. There’s light from the hallway blaring in through the awkward window on my bedroom door, and the chandelier is casting creepy shadows on my ceiling. And guess what? I’m as happy as could be because all of that means that I’ve got a room to call my own.

I’ve officially moved into my apartment (well, it’s the first floor of a house) in Haight Ashbury and for the foreseeable future this is where I’ll be. A little grimy, a little echoey, and very dusty, but hey it’s mine.

The to-do list still feels massive, and includes those not-so-little tasks like build ikea furniture and find a mattress. It also includes some more fun items, like buy a bike now that I’m not living at the top of a very steep hill, and send my life from the East Coast to the West Cost in boxes. Not to mention all the decorating I get to do.

It’s hard for me to express how relieved I am to have found a place before going home for Thanksgiving. It felt somehow wrong to be headed back to Providence to visit when I still felt like a visitor here, creeping around spaces that weren’t my own. Now it seems like maybe just maybe I’m starting to figure out this whole growing up thing. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves..

The only other life development in the past month or so is the removal of three fully grown in wisdom teeth. If my memory serves me I believe I was first told to take those wisdom teeth out when I was 16 or 17, and they started coming in my senior year of high school. Five years, a cavity and an infection later and I finally got them out. The oral surgeon gave me my wisdom teeth to keep, which seems entirely creepy since it’s not like the first tooth I lost or even the first tooth I had pulled, and 22-year-old wisdom teeth don’t seem so special. I will however save them to show to my future children, The Captain and Tyhmm* (pronounced Tim), as proof that you should listen to your dentist. There’s a massive whole through the cavity laden wisdom tooth and believe me you it means business.

Next on my plate is a whirlwind trip to the East Coast in which I stuff my face with turkey and a little tasty treat we Otto’s like to call Aunt Minnie’s Potatoes. My only contribution to Thanksgiving dinner this year is my irresistible wit and charm, and that smell that you bring when you get off red eye cross-country flight.

*I’m hoping that maturity and age will lure me away from my intense desire to give my children inconvenient and/or misspelled names. I’m not so¬†optimistic.


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