And so it begins

I imagined all sorts of ridiculous things about what my life would be like in Paris.
One thing I didn’t imagine was a modern apartment with views on a generic landscape that could be anywhere. We ended up in the suburbs. It’s a schlep to get into Paris and is the opposite of charming.

The movers had already packed up our stuff and put it on a ship, and we were two weeks from leaving California and we still hadn’t found an apartment. We were monitoring the one we live in now online, and once they lowered their price to a less ass rapey price, we swooped in and signed on the dotted line, site unseen.

The people who own our apartment were on a three year expat assignment in China, so this move has kind of loomed over us the whole time we lived here. And because David’s work was paying for the move and the apartment is pretty big, we didn’t get rid of too much stuff before we got here. So we have a lot of work ahead of us. 

Our lease is up in November and today we received the paperwork that allows us to move out at any time. Now we can search for something more our style. We have 8 months to find the perfect Parisian apartment and finally have an arrondissement to call our own. Knowing my husband and his glee in checking things off his list to do…. we will be moving in two.
Signing the paperwork for the registered letter got my nerves going. I hoped it was the lease termination and not a letter from the prefecture kicking me out of the country. I’ve tended to move every two years my whole life, sometimes by choice sometimes not. The anxiety and sadness of all those moves came back to me as I read the paperwork. The first move of my life when my mom left my dad, the move from Vermont to California when I was 10, the move to New York for my last year of high school. The bitter end with bad roommates who started out as friends. Dismantling the life I loved in California to start all over again in France. And now another move. I took a deep breath and sat down.
A few hours later I felt better. I remembered all the excitement of the good moves. The fresh start and satisfaction of making a new place a home. The voyeuristic thrill of seeing what lies behind locked doors. And I’m looking forward to living somewhere more alive. More like the place I imagined in my head when we decided to move. The suburbs are a sterile safe lonely comfortable place to be. I’ve turned into a fat house cat nursing my sore blunt tongue

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