What of Missing Egypt?

Longing for What’s No Longer Yours

After spending three years in my last apartment, I moved this past weekend. I spent the last few weeks in my old place excitedly daydreaming and planning. Planning on switching out fixtures, on simplifying my furniture, and streamlining my future orders.

Yet there were several factors I didn’t plan for like the different kind of quiet a new space offers. These cross streets speaking differently than my last. I didn’t plan on the sound of neighbors walking, moving furniture, and evidently never going to work, on the floor above me. Nor did I think about how I’d need to dust the vents or check the water pressure, take a good look at the exterior of the building or ask myself how many closets was too few. I didn’t even think about if it was a smoking or non-smoking building until I walked in the door one day thinking, what’s that smell?

All I cared about was four words I knew would make life just that easier — in-unit washer /dryer. In packing, I thought only of those four words and though the in-unit has proven worthy of it’s hype, as I unpack and clean and organize, I find myself complaining.

Complaining about the ding in the wall. Muttering on about the unpainted spot in the bathroom. Groaning about a crack in the tile. Asking myself which battles are worth fighting in week-one whilst rolling my eyes at my upstairs neighbors and fretting over an over-the-toilet storage or a window-sill-organizer situation. Repining and criticizing to the point that I thought…