Today, a Tuesday, I’m doing graphics (making seat numbers for today’s concert), teaching an art class, and selling drinks at a concert (same concert). Because I’m an introvert, I’m trying to think of where I can sneak a nap into the schedule. I’d also like to find time to eat. If I eat at the 19th Hole Restaurant like…right now…oh! I’ll be back later.
When I moved to York, Pennsylvania, I did it on a whim. Arriving with what fit in a 4×6 U-Haul trailer, over the past year and a half I’ve moved to a second apartment, acquired possessions, and made a life for myself. Most of what I own came from a second hand shop on Carlisle. A few things were in boxes and required serious assembling. Each time I purchased something I had to ask myself if the accumulation of yet another possession would make it necessary for me to remain in one place. Having little, as before, made it easy to travel and move about. I loved that part of my life and miss it more than I have words to describe.
I often have little arguments with myself concerning my tomorrows and my nexts. I’ll probably have more tomorrows, but what will they look like? Unplanned bills keep cropping up. Dental work. Cataract surgery. Can I be more thrifty? Continue working at minimum wage jobs? What do I WANT to do when my current lease runs out? Stay? Have I settled in too much, making a move more difficult? I convince myself I’d probably better stay put. Then a couple days later I’m drooling at the sight of a travel trailer or the thought of getting to visit friends and family again, taking my cat and my own bed. My turtle shell. Its nice getting to visit people. I love it. Yet I love having my own little turtle shell to rest and recharge in. So my little arguments never get resolved, because both sides of it are good.
My life is like my refrigerator
My fridge contains Greek yogurt, organic milk, homemade apple butter, organic eggs, a casserole, Mission BBQ leftovers (salmon and half a chicken), a variety of teas, spinach, brussels sprouts (did you know its spelled like that – I didn’t), and Pepsi. I suppose it represents my desire to eat healthy, sensibly, to succeed quite often, yet fail all in the same day. So my life goes. Trying to do the right things. Exercise. Lose weight. Get plenty of sleep. Earn a little money to save a bit or spend on surprise bills.
I have two rooms. I’m kind of sandwiched between apartments above, below, and on two sides. I like that. The windows are very drafty, so the more walls that don’t face the outside the better. My floor looks like a big patchwork quilt. The lease states that tenants must cover the majority of the floor and it helps insulate.
My half of the room (yeah, right)
The other end of the room is my computer room and art room, kind of. I separate the two spaces with a tri-fold partition. In just the short time I’ve been here, I’ve rearranged things several times. Most of the time its because of the cat (Sophia). She demonstrates how clever she is. Curtains have been pulled down half a dozen times. Anything on any flat surface (no matter how high) is fair game. In her eyes all things are toys or places to explore. I’m teaching her that the art table is my domain. I know she gets it. She just choses not to remember. I invited her to nap on the top shelf of my art cart and she likes that.
Sophia aspires to be an artist, too. While studying pens and colored pencils at this time, she hasn’t decided how she’ll fit paper clips into her projects. Perhaps after a nap, it’ll come to her.
The other room (you can see the closed door) is the bedroom. Its very small and gets very cold, so I keep the door closed on winter evenings.
The kitchen is in the main room and its the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever had, even though its quite small. The cupboards don’t go all the way to the ceiling, so I put my prints up there and light them up with strings of white lights. The view warms my heart and cheers me. I don’t have room to store the prints, so displaying them up above works very well. No one will ever see them anyways. I have no way to sell them and no one comes to my apartment. So it works good to have them where they are. I enjoy them.