Even now, after I’ve lived in the same apartment for almost three years, I worry. I wonder when I will calm down and feel settled. Actually, my roommate is even worse than I am. He refuses to paint the walls because he thinks “we’ll just be moving out and have to paint them over.” Never mind that we’ve been in the apartment for thirty months, he thinks it will be too much effort, too much of a commitment. So, thanks to him, I still have beige-y, off-white walls and probably will until one of us gets married (and if you met us, you would know there is no danger of that happening any time soon).
Sometimes I still panic and scour Craigslist, looking for the next available apartment, and its move-in date, and sometimes I enjoy not having to fill out “change of address” forms all the time. It’s a delicate balance—one I don’t know if I will ever truly grasp. I guess the wonder of it all, and wisdom I will one day happen upon is—how do you know when to unpack and paint your walls?
