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It’s a process…
Moving. It’s a process. There’s nothing fun about it, unless you’re moving into my stupid awesome downtown flat! Got a one bedroom that I simply adore, and I’m really pleased with my leasing company (Henry Turley) and all the people I’ve met along the way who’ve been part of the process. But moving never comes without a little bit of trauma. So… I have this closet, and despite being a jeans-and-tee-shirt kinda gal, I have A LOT of clothes. (Swear I purged!) I totally needed more closet space, so I got permission to hang an additional shelf. Hooray! …or so I thought. My first obstacle was power. People don’t just randomly…
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So, I did it…
About two weeks ago, I moved from “the country” (38002) to The Core (38103) and I haven’t looked back. A lot of my friends were all, wth?? But that’s just because they dug my backwoods place. Great place – don’t get me wrong – but it’s a lot of space for a girl and her mom. And while I totally adore mi madre, I had to get the hell out of there. So I dropped myself into the heart of downtown Memphis to face my demons. I’m beginning to question the sanity of the idea, frankly. It’s been stupid-hard, but who can hate life when you’re nomming a beautiful Japinista roll and…
