I signed papers two days ago for address # 17.
(No, I’m not currently taking bets on how long I’ll be there… at least let me move in first.)
After saying “small towns aren’t doing it for me” in my last post, it was probably a given I’d be heading to one. That kind of hilarious dichotomy is pretty much the plot of my life.
Having spent all of my grade-school years there, it’s safe to say I know the place intimately and, given that it’s within 45 minutes of two towns with healthy populations in the tens of thousands, people watching on a larger scale is easily doable.
The new pad is in an older building but much larger than the place I’m currently in. It has bigger windows, new laminate flooring, fresh paint, a backyard that may soon be home to a barbecue… and satellite television is included, too.
True story: the town is so small my new address cannot be found via the Canada Post website. And it’s so small, Shaw doesn’t provide cable there. But there are alternatives and I was pleased to discover the Fedex website knows that where I’m going is a real place.
If it weren’t for family, none of this would be happening. (And without divulging things meant to stay within the family unit, I mean that in a good way.) So thank you to them, if they happen across this.
I’ve made good headway in getting things prepared for the move, hell, I even repaired a couple of the larger holes I put in a wall that had been home to my six-foot long (!), framed Tiger Woods poster. I don’t think I had to do that, so if my current landlord happens across this, you’re welcome. The new place is big enough I may put the other 5 posters up. Yes, I’m an adult… but I can put up posters if I want to. My place, my rules.
If you know me and want the new address in case you wish to stop by one day (when was the last time we had coffee?!) fire me a message.