I’ve been living in my apartment for about 10 months now. I’ve got everything arranged and organized and unpacked just the way I want it. It’s roomy, it’s cosy, it’s homey, it’s comfy, and most of all, it’s me: eclectic, organized disorganization, mismatched, ME. Also, it’s FULL. Packed. I have A LOT of stuff.

So naturally, I came home a couple of weeks ago to a note on my door that basically said “We know you’ve been living here awhile now, and you probably have your shit scattered all over and set up and you probably weren’t planning on rearranging or moving anything any time soon, especially since you’ve just rearranged your bedroom to take care of the bed hitting the shared wall with the neighbors issue, so we just wanted to let you know that in about a week and a half we’ll start upgrading your electrical wiring, so you have to COMPLETELY destroy any semblance of organization and decor you might have, and we’re not going to give you any assistance besides two bankers boxes in which approximately three of your possessions will fit. Also, your boyfriend is totally going to come down with the plague on the weekend that you could probably use a hand moving furniture. Have fun! Good luck.”

Now, the note might not have said that EXACTLY, but that’s pretty much all I saw when I read it. What the note DEFINITELY did NOT say was how long these people were going to be tromping through my home and disrupting my life. Now, look, I don’t really like strangers in my house for an extended period of time even when they’re invited guests, so I CERTAINLY don’t want unwanted strangers all up in my business, ESPECIALLY when they’re going to be there unattended. I can’t imagine why my apartment complex didn’t think this might be a pertinent bit of information! I’m just trusting God that the lady’s 3-5 day estimate was accurate and that I won’t have strange people in my home for any longer than that. In my lovely home that now looks like this.

I appreciate the apartment complex giving me the opportunity to re-experience the joy of putting my apartment together, but unpacking isn’t even fun the first time around.

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