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Relocation

So here I am in Sunny Florida. So far I have seen an alligator being wrestled, shopped at a flea market the elderly and destitute, and saw a portly female in a thong bathing suit. My living room is decorated with pastel sea horses and my bedroom with an obscene number of sheep. I have bonded with the FedEX man over our grattitude for the cool weather in Florida (compared to NYC it is relatively cool). I have given Helen a ride to the supermarket so she could fill her suitcase on wheels with groceries. I have been invited to tea with Inga, my Russian neighbor. I have had my car valet parked a distance that was shorter than me. I have paid bills, made dinner, and ironed. I have vacuumed and used the hospital corner method of bed making. I’ve written thank you notes and filed insurance forms. I have more suits than summer dresses. To me this is astonishing. Over such a short period of time, my life has been completely transformed. No more nights that begin at 11 pm. No more falling asleep to the sound of someone screaming about last call. No more waking up to the sound of excited chatter about the latest gossip. Most likely never again will I get home at 6 am or 3 am for that matter. Right now a good night consists of a bowl of ice cream, a glass of red wine, and Law and Order. And I wake up to the sound of silence. Or the knocks of FedEX. To give myself a little credit I have only lived on my own for 3 days, so it is my firm belief that my social calendar will eventually be filled once again. However, real world… I have arrived.

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