Idyllic

16 months ago RJ and I moved into our condo from the house he was renting, where we spent most of our time together for two years. For the longest time, I couldn't love the condo. It was quite an adjustment.

Don't get me wrong. It's a great condo. Great view, comfortable square footage, brand new appliances. Hot water heats up virtually instantaneously, and the climate control is efficient and economical. All factors that arguably trump the house.

But there are things I miss about the house. The backyard, mostly, spending time out there with supreme privacy, watching RJ with his charcoal grill, Alley rolling around on her back on the green, "applying perfume" as I would call it. Some nights I miss having a heater that runs on gas. The rustic kitchen. Gas stove, real fire. The swing on the front lawn.

For Christ's sake, this was where I fell in love with RJ.

For months the condo did not feel like home. And boy, I tried. We tried. RJ the handy man has done numerous things to make living here convenient. But I never walked around the condo with a sense of wonder like I did at the house. The house was like a permanent fantasy vacation and I was a dream guest who never wanted to leave.

And now, post-sabbatical, what could compare? Of course the condo is drab.

At the house, I once took a self-portrait of my reflection on a hanging colander, M.C. Escher style. I thought it was brilliant.

Last night, I caught a glimpse of myself on the same colander. I surveyed the reflected environment. It was not boring. I just never looked.

It's all perspective.

Now that I am working two jobs, some days are incredibly hectic. I went from running out of ways to kill time to bemoaning not catching a break to take a shit cuz I'm always out there in transit. Some self-pity set in. I did not like that.

Earlier today I found out that I was not needed for the dinner shift tonight. I was overjoyed. Oh, the much needed rest! I had practically gone 8 straight days of always being on the go.

And then the anxiety hit: I must do something productive with this extra time! So much I'm behind on: reading, house chores, projects, financial maintenance...

Ideas ran amuck in my head. "Only so many hours!" I tweeted.

The best thing about my day is coming home to RJ. I've told him that time and again.

Today I was extra happy to come home. I verbally listed a few things I could be doing later in the evening.

"Home sweet home!" I exclaimed, beaming.

A moment later, I realized: I really meant it. This is home. And I am glad.

It took two jobs for me to find having a roof over my head a beautiful thing. Having a moment to breathe is a beautiful thing. Breathing... is a beautiful thing.