Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Oh %&$^, where do I live again?

This happens to me every time I have to fill out a form.

Over the summer, Boyfriend and I celebrated not having to move from the glorious apartment that we found last August.  It was a big deal for both of us.  Since we've lived together, we moved every single year.  I moved around a lot before that.

Still trying to wrap my head around the idea of 'home' and setting up a space.  The first two or three places that I moved into after college, my roommates and I would fix up and decorate, only to have it then sold out from underneath us, or an unscrupulous landlord suddenly jack the rent up by double.

Now that I'm thinking about, I've probably moved at least once a year every year since 1998.  Holy crap.  Didn't really do the math until now.  That equals roughly a fuckton of different living spaces; some with roommates, some not; some houses, some apartments;  everything from what felt like a timeshare on part of a bathroom in Manhattan, to a five or six bedroom Victorian house with one of those octagonal side-tower deals.

It makes a little more sense now, that I've been having trouble settling in and making any big home purchases.

The other problem, is that I often forget where I live.

Not the actual place, per se.  But the addresses meld together into taffy like amalgams of actual places in my brain, leading mail to end up at places I lived at three years ago, addresses I've never been to, or best, places that don't actually exist.  I'll put the street number of one place, the street name of another, and a zip code of a third (or a zip code misremembered or dislexified so that it doesn't exist at all).

I had that happen again this morning, as I was signing up for a class that I can't really afford, but more importantly, can't afford not to take any longer.

Its a weird, sinking feeling, when you try to fill out the address lines on the form, and can't remember what they are. (Though not as bad as realizing that you've just written alpha numeric pudding of several different ones, and have to ask HR for the paperwork back because you've just managed to screw up your own address...)

I messaged Boyfriend in a panic.  'WHERE DO I LIVE? AAAAAAGGGGH!'

He hasn't responded yet.  Maybe he thinks I'm screwing with him.  I would, but this time its serious.  I was looking around for mail, but I was actually trying to be productive this morning and do some cleaning, so I threw out all the junk mail.

Let this be a lesson - never clean the house, because then you won't know where you live.

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