Today marked the very first time Sean and I made the commute on public transport from our new house to work. Don't get me wrong: we lived in it for three days last week before heading off to Barbados on vacation, and they were all days we could have tried to figure out the bus or the train, but we drove to work instead: mostly because our heads were packed and spinning at that point and one more new thing to understand would've driven us, I think, to the brink.
So today was the first time we walked the three blocks to MUNI, then rode the thirty minutes into the city, and it really wasn't half as bad as I'd thought it would be. But sure, it was a change. For the past three and a half years, we lived so centrally in our apartment that we walked pretty much everywhere: it was a twenty minute march to work each way, and not much more anywhere else. And I loved walking to work: loved the way it divided the day in two, the way it gave me a chance to psych myself up or calm myself down, the way it gave me a foolproof excuse for skipping the gym on the days (yeah, mostly every day) I forgot to go.
Ironically, the street corner where we say goodbye in the mornings now is the same street corner where we always used to say goodbye when we walked to work: in front of a MUNI station that never actually meant anything to us before. Standing there this morning, I had a brief and dizzy flash of confusion: how did we get here? I don't remember walking from the apartment! I thought I was going crazy, and then I remembered that I wasn't going crazy: we'd just moved. But already the old apartment seemed so far away, like something that happened---distant, hazily---to someone else.
As for the new house, it's in complete and utter disrepair at the moment---boxes everywhere, DIY projects only half done, both of us recycling the same pair of shoes and the same juice glasses because everything else is packed up god knows where---and this evening after work we sat down to make a nice, sensible list of all the things we need to accomplish, which went really well in that it ended with me throwing the nice, sensible list at Sean's head and both of us eating dinner in separate rooms. (On the upside, I guess, at least we now have separate rooms for mid-fight eating. We used to have to just sulk on the sofa side by side.) Tomorrow we'll get up again and catch the train to work, and tomorrow and tomorrow and the tomorrow after that as well, and I haven't given it much time yet, I know---barely a week! would I cut myself a break!---but I guess all I'm wondering is when it's going to start feeling more like home.