Welcome to Apartment 312

The key turns in the lock and the door swings open slowly. Tired feet step inside and weary eyes take it all in.

It’s ours.

Stacks and stacks of boxes litter the room, and we don’t have any furniture to our name save a bedroom set from my grandparents.

Still, we’re filled with gratitude since my parents, brother and a friend helped carry all these boxes up two flights of stairs into our apartment yesterday afternoon. All we had to bring was what could fit in my little honda civic.

We’re a little bit hungry, a little bit sleep-deprived, and a little bit anxious to be settled.

1622014_10154555662070529_8159396454244384393_nUnpacking boxes isn’t difficult when your apartment is three small rooms total. The challenge comes when you don’t have anywhere to store your belongings.

Even though we donated and trashed half our belongings before we moved – we still wonder, why do we have so much stuff?

Starving, I get in the car and look for the first grocery store. I’ve spent enough time on maps of Columbus I have my bearings but still no idea where to get food or even what stores are popular in the midwest. Only a mile south I find a Kroger and buy just enough groceries to get us through the weekend.

By now I’ve unpacked enough “kitchen” boxes to find my grandparent’s old dishes, a few serving spoons, silverware and pots and pans from the Greenville-based side of the family. Just enough to make spaghetti – spaghetti that never tasted better.

Gray finds an unpacked, sturdy box and flips it over for a make-shift table and we sit cross-legged on the linoleum kitchen floor because I’m nervous we’ll spill red sauce on the white carpet the first night, and we don’t have a table or chairs anyway. We laugh at ourselves – but really, isn’t this normal for anyone in the middle of a move or newlyweds without a stick of furniture? It’ll be one of my favorite memories.

After a late night Target run for the bedding we still didn’t have, we’re feeling accomplished because the bed is made and our clothes are hung in the closet. Never mind the explosion of packing tape, newspaper, and broken-down boxes in the next room.

Exhausted we collapse in our new bed. In our new home. In a new city. A new life.

It’s terrifying but it’s oh-so-exhilarating.

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