>So, I am relocating. Again.
Don’t ask. I have neither the inclination or the time.
So in my previous residence, I occupied the basement. It’s not as bad as one would assume. I had a large, spacious area to play the role of my studio, a bedroom, and my own bathroom. I enjoyed my space, save for the scant number of windows and the very thin ceilings. Footfalls were thunderous. The creme de la creme of sound seeping through the floor upstairs was when my housemates’ 5-year old was doing one of his marathon sprints around the house…
Sounded like the kid was wearing my dad’s old combat boots.
This most recent Saturday was spent moving out of the basement in Northgate to the renovated attic space in Capitol Hill. However, aforementioned attic is not completed just yet, so for the next few weeks I am sleeping on a futon in my housemates’ 18-month olds’ future room. Which is painted to look like one is underwater. K did a beautiful job…I don’t think I couldn’t have done it better myself.
I had taken to saying, “Niff is going to sleep with the fishes…” instead of goodnight, but seeing as how her offspring would be occupying that room at some point, K wasn’t too thrilled with that one.
So, now I’ve dubbed it “the aquarium”.
As I mentioned, the attic isn’t done yet.
The contractors had been installing and sanding drywall, so to minimize the amount of drywall dust wafting its way into people’s rooms they had adhered these large, plastic sheets over everyone’s doors with a zipper running down the middle.
I absolutely hate them. Trying to carry your laptop and a cup of tea simultaneously…I advise against it.
They do have some amusement about them. When my housemates tiptoe over the bottoms where the zipper meets the floor and eke their way through the plastic, it has this very “sci-fi space portal” quality about it. My housemate whose room is next to The Aquarium calls them “pods”. “Bath Pod”, “Bed Pod”…
I wish we could arrange for some sound effects to accompany the zippered doorways. Like some kind of Star-Trek “pfffffft” sound when we entered and exited. That would be uber sexy.
Teh sexy, I dare say.
I actually don’t mind the inconvenience of only having a 12-inch opening to wiggle my way through to get into The Aquarium. Because the dust being produced is the drywall going up in my future room. In the attic.
So, I left the basement and somewhat tense environment of Northgate and moved into the attic of a happy, settled home. Heaven and hell, maybe?
I’d explain, but I have neither the inclination or the time.
voulez-voulez-vous altitude change.
One thought on “>from the basement to the attic”
>Do explain…do explain.