My Empty Apartment
My husband has moved on to Chicago. I’m staying here in San Diego until the end of the month or until I find a job. In the mean time, the movers have come and carted away all of our belongings. I’ve saved a few things to make this last month more liveable. I kept one of our TV’s, the VCR and a DVD player. A tea kettle, a set of silverwear, a cookie sheet and two skillets that I plan to toss when I leave (they’re falling apart anyway), a trash can, an air mattress, blankets and clothes. I also have a few books and of course, my kitties to keep me company (the movers wouldn’t take them—we tried).
I thought I had everything I needed. The refrigerator was still full of food, and all things I liked and should be eating. Orange juice, eggs, milk, bread, cheese, a frozen pizza, pasta, and a few random things that I should have made use of when I was still cooking for two—a block of tofu, a box of spinach, a jar of jalapenos, and an unusually large amount of spicy mustard. Oh well.
My first day alone was a Tuesday. I’d taken Nick to the airport and went on to work. When I got home, I was ready for a nice healthy dinner. What to eat? I opened my fridge and settled on the frozen pizza. Pizza in the oven (with a few of my own additions) and in twenty minutes, I had dinner. I opened the oven door and realized I had no way to get the pizza out. I stood there with the door open for a moment, thinking. If I could slide it onto the cookie sheet—that would work. I got my table knife out and started easing it off of the rack. Eventually, I pulled it out of the oven. Great! Pizza! But I had no way to cut it. I tried my table knife again, and eventually, I had the thing segmented into eatable sections. I grabbed a bottle of water and went to the living room.
My TV is on the floor—along with just about everything else. I got my pillow from the bedroom and plopped down on the floor. Not too bad.
The next night, I ran into other problems. I had plenty of left over pasta from a few nights before the movers showed up. I had no microwave, but I thought heating it up on the skillet would do. I dumped it from it’s Tupperware container and use my fork to stir it up. No problem. But then, I thought, how was I going to eat it? I had no plates or bowls. I couldn’t very well eat it right out of the skillet. I found the Tupperware container and put it back in there. It would work. I’d have to snag some paper plates from the office tomorrow.
I was getting really tired of sitting on the floor. Not to mention, my butt was getting sore. Nick’s mom called to see if I had everything I needed.
“A chair! I could really use a chair.”
“Ok, how about a table?”
“Oh, that would be great!”
“What else?”
“Well, uh, I could use a bowl and a cup.”
So, I went to their house to get a few things and now, I’m a bit more comfortable. I have a beach chair and an outdoor end table. It’s not exactly comfortable, but I only have a few days left. On Friday, I’m off to Chicago! No more air bed and eating off of cardboard!
I thought I had everything I needed. The refrigerator was still full of food, and all things I liked and should be eating. Orange juice, eggs, milk, bread, cheese, a frozen pizza, pasta, and a few random things that I should have made use of when I was still cooking for two—a block of tofu, a box of spinach, a jar of jalapenos, and an unusually large amount of spicy mustard. Oh well.
My first day alone was a Tuesday. I’d taken Nick to the airport and went on to work. When I got home, I was ready for a nice healthy dinner. What to eat? I opened my fridge and settled on the frozen pizza. Pizza in the oven (with a few of my own additions) and in twenty minutes, I had dinner. I opened the oven door and realized I had no way to get the pizza out. I stood there with the door open for a moment, thinking. If I could slide it onto the cookie sheet—that would work. I got my table knife out and started easing it off of the rack. Eventually, I pulled it out of the oven. Great! Pizza! But I had no way to cut it. I tried my table knife again, and eventually, I had the thing segmented into eatable sections. I grabbed a bottle of water and went to the living room.
My TV is on the floor—along with just about everything else. I got my pillow from the bedroom and plopped down on the floor. Not too bad.
The next night, I ran into other problems. I had plenty of left over pasta from a few nights before the movers showed up. I had no microwave, but I thought heating it up on the skillet would do. I dumped it from it’s Tupperware container and use my fork to stir it up. No problem. But then, I thought, how was I going to eat it? I had no plates or bowls. I couldn’t very well eat it right out of the skillet. I found the Tupperware container and put it back in there. It would work. I’d have to snag some paper plates from the office tomorrow.
I was getting really tired of sitting on the floor. Not to mention, my butt was getting sore. Nick’s mom called to see if I had everything I needed.
“A chair! I could really use a chair.”
“Ok, how about a table?”
“Oh, that would be great!”
“What else?”
“Well, uh, I could use a bowl and a cup.”
So, I went to their house to get a few things and now, I’m a bit more comfortable. I have a beach chair and an outdoor end table. It’s not exactly comfortable, but I only have a few days left. On Friday, I’m off to Chicago! No more air bed and eating off of cardboard!
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