moving in the city

This uhaul contains all of my earthly possessions and can currently be found parked on the sidewalk in front of the Fairfield Marriott, Long Island City, Queens, New York. This is the moving truck I drove 15 hours from Lexington, Kentucky, through the winding hills of West Virginia, through the small towns in Pennsylvania, through Newark, across the 1-9 to be denied entrance to the Holland tunnel (no moving vans since 9/11), back to Newark to turn around at 11:00 at night, across the New Jersey turnpike, through the Lincoln Tunnel, across midtown Manhattan, through the Queens tunnel, before parking at the Marriott.

It was all worth it though because yesterday I found an apartment. Park slope, two bedroom, ridiculously expensive by my standards but a good price by New York's, with laundry in the building. Sigh of relief. The problem with having OCD is that apartment hunting is extremely painful. Moldy bathrooms, dingy carpets, stray hairs in uncleaned sinks, it's all enough to make a person lose their shit in front of a broker who is two feet from your face at all times going "so, so what do you think? huh? huh?" and who tries to convince you that an extremely tiny spiral staircase leading up to the attic bedroom is AWESOME instead of a deathtrap.

Since I found a place yesterday, I can spend today in the Red Hook IKEA buying a kitchen cart (new apartment has no counter space. and by that I mean there is a sink, an oven and a refrigerator. literally not one inch counter in space) and strolling through the MOMA with my mom.

From New York with Love,

Hannah