Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Settling In

We're cramped in here, this dog and I. She has squinty sleepy eyes, blinking slowly as she settles in to her many mid-morning naps. I don't quite fit in the nook I've made myself, stretching legs into empty bookcases and leaning against packed boxes. I've worn the same outfit four days in a row- capris and a tank top- because I can't quite muster the dedication I need to tackle the bedroom closets.
The momentum I carried through the weekend of packing and moving and shifting and organizing and unpacking has finally left me. My eyes hurt as I strain to see around cardboard boxes and through plastic bins. My arms feel heavy, weighted with the burden of house and hearth. This is my arena. This is my element. Even as it encourages me to stretch my creativity, to simplify and minimize and prioritize, the sheer weight of our home is suffocating.
You know who's not suffering? Mr. E. This guy comes home full of stories and jokes and enthusiasm for his work. He tells me all about his day- his five hours in traffic, the flowers he delivered to actresses on set, the costumes and the crew and the catered lunches. He's exhausted by the time he sits down, but he's just the right amount of happy and frustrated- enough to like what he's doing but not enough to settle for it forever. He's sort of been my inspiration here.

The overall feeling in this little one bedroom apartment, smack dab in the middle of downtown Burbank, purveying the valley that nestles the city of dreams- that feeling is hope. Hope that I'll tackle this apartment. Hope that I'll find a job. Hope that everything will work out for us the way it has so far.


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Mrs. E