Moving anywhere after twenty-five years requires some adjustment. We are, after all, creatures of habit. We expect our coffee cup, the bathroom, the grocery store to be in the same place, even if we aren’t. But we’ve traveled enough to adapt to and even enjoy new surroundings. So that’s what I’m trying to so here, even if I can’t seem to hold the big-picture geography in my head–you know, my place in space–without looking out a window.
Seriously, this apartment complex has so many amenities (pool, gym, tennis court), I can easily think of it as a vacation rental, like the condos we’ve rented in Hawaii. That helps. And like being on vacation, I’m learning where all the shops are, including four good markets, two drugstores, and many restaurants, all less than ten minutes away.
Another point that makes this feel like a vacation is that I’m living with a pared down number of possessions. Fewer clothes and shoes. Fewer cooking utensils. Simply less stuff. And you know what? I’m fine. I keep a list handy of things to pick up the next time we’re at the house, but it’s getting shorter, not longer.
Less maintenance too. Smaller house to clean. Fewer bathrooms. No lawns to mow. No garden to weed. See? Vacation!
More good news is that after a week on “vacation,” I’ve had a couple of good night’s sleep in this new space and have set about establishing some familiar habits in my new environment. I’ve even used the gym here. And yesterday I went to the movies with my daughter and her family. For a decade we’ve only been together on vacation. The vacation mindset is once again reinforced.
Now, if I could only get the cabana boy to bring me a tall, frosty drink at poolside.