Changing States

It has been six days now, living in our new apartment, and my senses are adjusting.

Living on the coast of Upper New York Bay alone has been a tremendous change. Rather than walking past sleepy row houses and run down businesses, I’m greeted with the (what other word is there?) majestic lower Manhattan skyline. It is an awe-inspiring view to take in, both in the morning as I wake up and in the evening as I trek home along the promenade.

My nose is no longer plagued by the sweet tang of packing tape or the sharp wood of fresh cardboard. Most of the boxes have been unpacked, our belongings now lodged in their semi-permanent locations. The new paint smell is fading fast with every cycle of fan or air conditioning.

My hands are no longer spotted with the scars and pains that come from cam locks, wooden dowels, and allen wrenches. *Some assembly required* is the Great Lie of our time, or at the very least, the understatement of the century. Regardless, the five pieces of furniture we assembled are functioning well.

My ears are dealing with even more quiet. While I had always pegged Astoria as quiet, even with a major road just outside our window, Jersey City completely re-calibrates my hearing. The roads are largely free of cars, with only the Hudson-Bergen Light Rail providing the occasional gentle screech around the corners.

We are cooking in earnest again. Small steps for the time being, but already we are starting to dig into cookbooks long forgotten. My desire to start a food blog is climbing steadily, despite fully knowing the difficulty I have in even keeping this one blog sufficiently active.

Buttons adjusted quickly; already he has caused substantial reconfiguration of one area of the apartment. He has since returned to his normal self, sleeping on his favorite chair and being very excitable about his morning kibble. He continues to assert his innocence in all matters curious.

Like so many things in my life, move-in is a rolling process, never quite finishing. Some boxes never get unpacked; some items find comfortable places but are never touched again. But already, everything is in the right enough for the new apartment to feel like home.