Change has never been something I welcomed into my home.
And that’s speaking both metaphorically and literally.
A new couch is being delivered on Thursday.
Alisa Anton
My cookware isnt peeling possibly carcinogenic Teflon bits into my cauliflower rice anymore.
Theres no rotting tomato sauce or dried out baking soda in the fridge.
I have even more clothes to take to Goodwill.
In the past three months, my apartment has been through a sort of metamorphosis.
I have new pillows.
They arent stained with makeup or sweat or whatever leaves behind those dull stains on pillows and mattresses.
My dog is getting over her fear of the dishwasher.
In the past three months, my apartment has been shedding its skin and transforming into something new.
Its still undeniably my home.
I still dont always put the laundry away or vacuum enough.
There is still a chicken claw and sage and strange flea market art and tiny pumpkins left from Halloween.
Its still my apartmentit still reeks of me.
Its how Ill buy the new pillows, but insist on sleeping with the oldest one.
How Ill reluctantly get Christmas decor, but leave the pumpkins out for as long as I can.
To me, holding onto familiarity is safe.
Consistency is like a security blanket.
Routine and borderline monotony are like a shield.
Change has never been something I welcomed into my home.
And thats speaking both metaphorically and literally.
In the past three months, there has been a lot of change.
Not just concerning the layout of my apartment.
Im throwing out old socks that havent seen a match in years.
Im trying to become adaptable.
Im trying to be open to all this change.
