Home Sweet Home

I didn't realize how much I love my mountain aerie rabbit warren until it was not mine for the resting. I haven't had the joy of sleeping in my own bed since last Thursday night. Due to water damage and the building settling over thirteen years, my walls are reminiscent of Miss Haversham's establishment, and they are plastering, painting and changing out fifty year old kitchen cabinets.

They are making a nuisance of themselves.

It isn't that I haven't been staying in lovely places. Nana's for two nights. A Castle in the Clouds on Park West with a Pretty Princess for three. Beautiful friend's beautiful floor for one (with a delicious and nutritious breakfast made for me this morning). And tonight, a beautiful Bronxville Tudor with a family I have loved for years.

But tomorrow I am reclaiming my territory. I am not looking gift horses in the mouth. I am appreciative to the bone. But I've been carrying my life in a backpack and a shoulder bag while auditioning and conducting business. I need my home.

My super was surprised. He's only known me to be rather joyous and complying.

"Hi. I've been out of my house for a week. It's less than half done. I'm moving back in tomorrow night. You can work on the front of it, entering and exiting from the living room door and I'll close off and live in the back."

"I'll call you later. We had an emergency at the church so we haven't even made it into your apartment today. It should move faster once we're back in."

"No. You won't call me back later. I'm sorry there was an emergency at the church AND something that needed to be finished in another apartment while I was kind enough to vacate mine. The work you've done is beautiful and I'm moving back in now.

"Well, your walls were terrible."

"Yes, well, that is not my fault. Thank you for the beautiful work you're doing and I'm moving back in."

With age comes a pleasant bitchiness.

Tomorrow I will be home. Home. HOME. And it will be sweet.