want

wee house by my house party

it has been a long time since i've wanted something so badly. since i've known what would be good for me. this house, this little sunny apartment would suit me just right. at first when i entered, there was a strange smell that put me off. but that is just the current resident's smell. it can be waved away. and after a minute's adjustment, i no longer smelled it. then a couple of minutes imagining away the current tenant's things, and i could see myself and pinky leon there so clearly. in that bright morning kitchen with its black and white checkered floor we could bask—me drinking tea, PL on the floor, tummy to the sun. kitchen things on white shelves. tall windows and tall ceilings. hardwood floors throughout the rest. a tiny bathroom—the bathroom has never been important to me—the less bathroom to clean, the better. a back door to the large, rambling yard that has so much potential. and already an orange tree and tomato vines growing up, up. and a super friendly musician-mom landlady!

and i'm so excited to move away from the bustle (and poop) of the city and onto a sleepy street with tall old trees lining it. there are a lot of american flags out there, and i counted two of those military tank-like SUVs within about as many streets, which puts me slightly on edge, but the house feels so safe. i can bike all around the flat town on my cute public bicycle. there's a city carshare pod nearby. a public library nearby. an expensive, but cute natural foods marketplace. movie theater not far. BART not far. what more does one need, really! a park and a swimming pool, but i'm guessing that can be discovered there too.

i am getting ahead of myself. she has not decided yet who will move there. but i tell you, all of my fingers and toes are mentally crossed, and in my head i'm already there, already home. i did not feel this way when i moved into my current apartment years ago. not even close. the wait is excruciating. i may be developing an ulcer.

and i know it is dangerous, this wanting, because all this imagining, all this hoping could be dashed. but i can't help it.