The pull of what's to come

It’s hard not to live in the future. Take me for example. I want to move into our new apartment RIGHT NOW. Our tenure at our current place is a ticking clock and I just want the bell to ring already. I have seen the milk and honey of Canaan and I’m ready to be out of the desert because I’m just running in circles and stepping on Mark’s toes in the process. My dreams of the future are strongest in the morning circa 6:45 a.m. If you’ve seen our bathroom, then you understand there’s barely room for even one person in there. But 6:45 rolls around and Mark and I both crowd the mirror and sink with all kinds of dangerous objects: flatirons, shavers, hair dryers. Objects that we probably shouldn’t be operating around running water. Add my elbow gouging Mark’s chest in an attempt to get my bangs just right by holding the flatiron just so, and then Mark displaces me to a counter spot sans mirror so he can spit out his toothpaste. “Heather, move over!” “But then I can’t see!” I suppose it’s a comedy of errors. Anyway, the point is that the new place has two bathrooms, and they are both larger than our current bathroom. But it’s a double-edged sword. Two bathrooms mean twice the amount of cleaning, and we may as well double that again because the spaces are bigger. I could quote “Spiderman” and say that with great power comes great responsibility, but perhaps an increase in bathroom space doesn’t necessarily equate to more power. But it WILL equate to more freedom, which brings with it its own responsibility I suppose.

Enough of this domestic stuff. To get back to the point, though I’m looking forward to moving soon, I’m going to enjoy our cabin-on-the-water as long as I can. As my friend Jessica put it, it’s better to leave on good terms!