Emmy And Me

I've been writing, but it's fighting me. I've been hating everything I've put down, and forcing the words just isn't producing anything good.

I'll try to have something readable up this weekend. Sorry about all this. I know you guys all say I should take my time and not feel pressured, but I feel as if I'm letting myself down, too.

For the necessary 500 word minimum I give you this flashback:

After the movers had taken the last box I made one last sweep of the condo, checking to make sure we'd packed everything. We had the place for another six weeks, so it wasn't as if it would be a big deal if we had to come back for something we forgot, but still…

Emmy and Angela were already at the new house, ready to direct the guys as to where the many boxes of stuff and remarkably few pieces of furniture belonged.

I took a few minutes to lean on the balcony railing, thinking about what Jenna had said about the view. Yeah, I was going to miss that, and the convenience of ordering from the restaurant downstairs, and the great job the detailer did on our cars, and the ultra-short commute to school and my office, and… But seriously, it was a really nice place to live and if all else had been equal and Emmy didn't have her music, I could see us buying a place there in the building.

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But Emmy did have her music, and I did seem to be needing more and more parking spaces. If things went right, soon we would be needing a nursery (or maybe two!) and living quarters for whatever live-in help we might take on, too. This move to Wonderland was really the right step, and our life was going to become easier in some ways. Emmy would have an unreasonably easy commute, and with my full home office I could skip going in on days when I didn't have any meetings scheduled. Angela, well, her work was location-independent to a great extent, so that was fine. She and Emmy had talked about setting up a photography studio in a corner of the sound stage, so maybe that was going to happen, too.

All in all, it was going to be an upgrade in our lives, except for giving up the view from that wonderful balcony living room space in unit number Seventeen F.

Finally satisfied we'd gotten everything that was ours and not part of the condo's furnishings, I closed and locked the door behind me on my way out, quite likely for the very last time. Yes, it was just transitional space for us, but so much had happened in our lives in the six months we'd lived there that it felt a whole lot longer.

I stopped off at a flower stand on my way to the new house and got two dozen roses for Emmy and Angela. I felt an odd mixture of sadness to see one phase of our life come to an end, but also excitement at starting a new one, and I wanted to commemorate the occasion with the simple gift.