In three weeks we're moving back to the Cape for a little spell. The last time I lived there full time was the summer I graduated college, when I was waitressing at the 400 Club and serving hot potatoes to curmudgeonly seniors who asked for mashed (cue a man plopping a searing-hot baked potato right onto my palm in disgust).
Things will be a little different. I won't be able to hop on the Red Line after someone inevitably shuffles in front of me right when the door opens, but hopefully the two-hour long P&B bus to Boston won't involve human urine and be restful enough that I can sleep or read.
We'll save some money for this elusive house thing. I can't express how effing sick I am of living on someone else's property, half-decorating someone else's living room because I can't get it out of my head that it's not truly mine, and settling for weak water pressure or lack of recycling or dope-addled vagabonds approaching me at 8AM while walking the dog. "Sorry about earlier," a sleepy-looking guy said the other day. Startled, I go, "That wasn't me, we've never met."
"Ohhh," he said slowly, regarding my gym shorts and getting far too close to my face. "Thought you were that Jehovah's Witness from this morning."
Do I know where we want to live? No. Do I know how much $ $$ we can to spend? No. Do I hate when people ask themselves questions they already know the answer to? Yes.
I do know this is a unique opportunity to be closer to my mom to help out, to save some moolah, and enjoy time on my favorite peninsula on earth. On Sunday right at twilight, my favorite point in the day, I won't be so saddened to leave I want to cry because I have to go back to my (temporary, always temporary) homes in Quincy or the much better (and missed, but God, it was getting pricey) Southie or the cheap-and-kind-of-awesome-Dorchester (oh, how much I loved the Banshee!) or where I kicked off my eight-year residence in Boston--Brighton (I can't remember much of that year.) I checked my credit report and saw like 14 different addresses on it. I'm about to add one more.
Here's to once again another move, another change, but to the aim of something finally more permanent.