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All the current excavation work on my apartment has had an end goal: I'm moving at the end of this week.  I'm only moving across town, but it's still ridiculously tedious, even if I am excited about my new apartment-to-be.

Even though it only involves shifting from Hayes Valley to the Inner Richmond (a mere, two-mile journey), it's still a really big move for me.  For one, I'm moving in with someone, as in "we're moving in together," so that's a big deal.  For another, my tiny studio has been my home for longer than any other place I've ever lived.

I moved into this apartment nearly six years ago when a relationship ended.  It was, in fact, someone I was living with.  So the next risk is not at all lost on me.  That failed relationship eventually healed into a friendship I'm grateful to have, but the first year was just plain ugly.  My neighbors probably thought I had some kind of wailing disease.  With supportive friends and time passing, I was eventually able to stop thinking of my apartment as that place I went to at the end of the day to feel bad about myself.  And I started to invest some actual energy into decorating it, and making it my own.  I'd never lived by myself before, but I've always been an introvert, and it slowly became a sort of introvert paradise for me.

So, while I'm thrilled for the next chapter in life and the challenges and joy it will bring, it feels very important to honor what my apartment has meant to me in order to let it go.  So I made a photo album of all my favorite elements:
My crazy closet

My peaceful couch

I inherited these lovely hardback journals from the '60s

My writing desk/dining room table

The "study" next to my desk

The green painting was inspired by my kayak

I love, love, love seeing people I love on my fridge

The kitchen runner cleverly hides cigarette burns in the linoleum from the last tenant


Paintings.  I can't decide if they are finished or not.

I won her at Bingo Night, the patron saint of wall heaters

My funky chandelier

My itsy bitsy bathroom, all bedecked in pink!

The blue armchair in all her glory

This was my grandmother's Kitchenaid mixer.  That's how long they last!

These guys guard the top of the fridge

The floor in the main room is decidedly un-level.  I won't miss that.

Thanks for taking the tour with me!  Now it's on to packing and procrastinating over packing.  It feels like I'm stripping all the personality from the apartment, which is not a good feeling (unpacking is SO much more enjoyable).  My little studio has been a place I've grown, healed, laughed, loved and has witnessed a lot of hours of terrible television watching (so far, Dance Moms might be the lowest it's sunk).  I hope the next resident has at least half as great a time living in it.  

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