This apartment was my 30s. An ex gf (now married with a child on the east coast) found it for us after I’d dragged my feet for months moving out of an unheated rented room in UTC. We split less than a year later, and I paid the rent on my own for a few months, with only a papasan cushion and an air mattress as furniture. Spent a bizarre ‘Fear and Loathing’ style year with a roommate from Boston who was true, wild Gonzo. And then five good years with @hannajean42 , who would likely have moved us out years ago if I hadn’t had years of excuses planned. I’m never aware of how ill-prepared I am for change until I’m faced with it – with regard to moving, and some other things, 2019 hasn’t been a bad year thus far, but it’s not an easy one either. I’m 39, but I tell people I’m 40 just so I’m a little more ready when it comes.

(at Normal Heights, San Diego)

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