I’ve lost track of how many moves my friend Jim Allen has helped me with. Many. He never hesitates, is always there with a smile on his face, even when he’s lifting those boxes full of books. It’s the same thing with my son. Never a complaint. My daughter also helped with this move. Family and friends: I’m lucky to have them.
When I closed that door to the old place, after the truck was loaded, I swore to myself I would never go back to that building. I said goodbye to no one. If you read me on a regular basis, I think you know why.
Reality is I have gone back only to check my mailbox, hoping not to run into anybody there. I haven’t. I don’t want questions asked—don’t want them to know where I live. A clean break is what I need. Turns out, an important piece of mail I’ve been looking for—a freelance check—has not yet been mailed. The Post Office now has my current address, so there is no need to return to my previous resident. I never thought I would be glad that a freelance check was being mailed late.
I want to make it clear that not all bad people live on my old street, but there were enough of them to make me feel unsafe at times. Living at my new place, now for a week, lets me know there are some “characters” here too, but I doubt if any are drug dealers or are violent or have too many cats in their apartment. The approach here in my new place seems to be a bit more normal. And there’s security here. I want that.
I don’t know if I’ll ever mention the name of the street I used to live on or not. For right now, I don’t want to. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve had some good times there in that building but the bad times were more often than the good. For now, I think I want to look forward and not look back.
Thanks for hanging in while I was gone.
(Image from WordPress)