I love my new place. I really do. For the first time in my life, I can girly up my home to my own satisfaction. I have a bright, cheerful yellow living room with prints of Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn and Madonna adorning the walls. I can proudly display my Legally Blonde and Clueless DVDs. I have my bible (Bridget Jones’s Diary) propped up against a traditional bible in my bookcase.

The remote is absolutely mine. If I feel like plopping down on the couch to watch Lifetime’s Movie of the Week, A Man Never Tells–about a husband who is ashamed to admit his wife beats him, haha–I will get no argument from anyone.

There is no one to complain about my pink bathroom with the pink butterflies on the shower curtain. No one is going to get his grubby hands on my pretty, for-decoration-purposes-only hand towels. There are no concerns about someone missing the toilet while peeing, and the seat always remains down.

My bedroom is baby blue. There is no longer “my” side of the bed. It’s all my side of the bed. I can now sleep with each leg stretched across the bed, touching a corner. I tried this and I’m telling you, it’s not comfortable. It is reassuring that I tried, though. One must always try new experiences.

 I can fall asleep with the TV on if I want (and I do. What better way to fall asleep than listening to Conan O’Brien or Jon Stewart?) The closet is in exactly the order I want it. I can keep the blinds open from the moment I get up in the morning until right before I go to bed at night (my husband was a vampire and hated having the blinds open. He kept them closed all the time and it was always dark).

The kitchen is a pretty sage green and is generally immaculate, as it’s only used for the occasional microwaving or cooling of beverages in the fridge. I have a dishwasher, which I must say, is more reliable and efficient then my last one, who often left dishes stacked for days and then cheated on me (the bitterness will fade in time, no worries).

The office is my magnum opus of femininity. It’s lavendar, with soft blues, pinks and greens accenting the room. I have more Marilyn and Madonna prints in here. I have a loveseat with a comfy sage slipcover. I’m making lots of pillows to accent the colors in the room. It’s the girliest room I’ve ever decorated.

But, there are a few downfalls to this new, single life.

I’ve been working lots of hours lately. Actually, I’m worked 10 days straight without time off. In some respects, this is OK, because I’m saving to be a World Traveler. This also means that I’ve not had any real sleep in quite awhile, and I’m starting to burn out. It would be nice to sleep in a few minutes longer in the morning, to have someone say, “I’ll take the dogs out.” Especially when it’s raining outside.

It would be a nice break to have someone else feed and water the dogs and cat for once. It gets old to work until 6 or 7 PM, then drop mail off at the post office, then run to the grocery store, then go home and take the dogs for a walk, then tidy up, and find some free time for yourself. It’s fine most of the time, and my parents help out with the dogs, especially when I have to work through the lunch hour and can’t get home to let them out. But it would just be nice to have someone right there to share responsibility with you.

And laundry. God, do I miss my washer and dryer. Now, there is a single washer and dryer set that is shared by an entire building. When I come home at night, I just pray that the washer’s available. It’s such a pain in the ass. And, it costs money. Not only do you have to budget laundry money, you also have to make sure you have ten or twenty bucks worth of quarters around. That’s convenient.

Tonight, for example, I planned on going to bed early, maybe re-reading the sixth Harry Potter book in bed then falling asleep at a decent hour. I was just going to do a quick load of laundry, and then clean the apartment a bit.

I ended up working an hour later than the usual time. I stop at the gas station to fill up my tank, then run to the grocery store to pick up some detergent, then stop at the post office to drop off some mail. I get home, take the dogs out, then find that the washer is free (yes!). I put the laundry in the basket, and scoop up the change. I open the door, but my puppy Taz is quick and he runs out into the hallway. “Taz!” I loudly whisper, “get back inside!” Taz wags his tail, then starts barking cheerfully at me. A neighbor hears the noise and opens the door, glances down the hall at me.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “Taz! Back in NOW.” Taz ignores me.

I put down the laundry basket, and start after Taz. Taz thinks it’s a game and starts running in circles, then when he realizes I’m about to pick him up, he tries to escape. I chase him up and down the hall, and take him inside. “STAY,” I ordered. I pick up the laundry basket, and Taz starts to go out the door again. I balance the basket on my hip, use my foot to block Taz and and my free hand to grab his collar. “NO,” I say in my meanest voice (my brother will surely let all of you know that I’m not the meanest-sounding person and no one, not even my dogs, takes me seriously), “STAY.”

That’s when my indoor-bound cat, Penny, leaps over my leg out into the hallway. Again, I have to put down the laundry basket, fight off Taz ( who then starts barking wildly when I shut the door and leave him out of the fun), and chase Penny the Cat down the hallway. I finally get back inside of my apartment, virtually unscathed, give or take a few scratch marks on my arms and I manage (barely) to get out into the hall pet-free with laundry basket in hand.

I go downstairs and to my relief, the washer is still free. I put in my clothes and reach for the detergent, when I realize that I’d left the detergent back upstairs in the apartment with the Pets from Hell. It’s now decision time–I either put everything back in the laundry basket and haul it upstairs with me, risking my well-won spot with the washer, or I leave it there and hope that no one steals my underwear. That may sound weird to you, but back in my younger days, there was a problem in my apartment building with women’s panties being stolen out of the laundry room. My friend Sheba had hers stolen first. And then later I worked for an apartment community, and I’ve found it’s actually a pretty common occurance. Disturbing.

I decided to risk the panty-thieves and run upstairs. I went back up, fought off the pets, and came back down to find all of my unmentionables still intact. I add the detergent to the load, and put in the coins. Nothing happens. That’s when I realized that I’d mistakenly grabbed a nickel, not a quarter. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled to no one in particular, and then I kicked the wall, which hurt my foot, but at this point it’s better to kick the wall and break my foot then kick the only cleaning machine and break it.

I run back upstairs, grab the damn quarter, run back downstairs and start the load. Then I go back upstairs, and I start cleaning. I dusted. I vacuumed. I went back down and put the clothes in the dryer with little fanfare. I came back up and scrubbed the counters and mopped the floors. Then I decided to check my email.

I’ve learned to block out noise pretty well. After working in a restaurant for eight years, you have to do that in order to focus. I can block out screaming kids, loud music, and sometimes even the phone. But you know that moment when everything gets eerily quiet, and you get that chill running up your neck, and you know something is very, very wrong? That’s the feeling I just got. I walked out of my office, down the hallway, into my (formerly) just cleaned living room, and this is what I found:

 

The blurred images are my two dogs, running away from me. They tagged-teamed me. One of them got into an entire roll of paper towels. I’d left it on the end table when I was cleaning the windows. The other one got into a box of Kleenex. I think I should be nominated for sainthood solely for not tossing my puppies out the window at that moment. I’ll be St. Jennicki, Patron Saint for All Who Must Start Over Again On Their Own.

This is what I’ll look like: