j a n s e n. i. s. m.

I’m changing home address soon. The offer came to me a few days ago, to transfer to a high-rise apartment after one of its occupant decided to join a downtown girl in her nth house here. In exchange, a returning assignee is said to take over my spot in the blue and white house according to his agent. The bedroom which is good for two will now be good for one since my roommate is ending her assignment in a week time. So the fact that my room could offer the privacy the returning assignee might need and the rent is the cheapest among the houses I’ve set foot to here in Canada, make it as his best option. The only setback I can think is if returning assignee is a total neat freak. He might not survive the normal clutter in this house, the once-a-day dishwashing, the leftover food that stays left over for longer than a week sometimes, and the bathroom which is only clean an hour after a laborious general cleaning, all of which I have become used to in my almost two months of stay.

I had overnight to decide so the next morning, I popped the agent and told her that I’m willing to move to the apartment but I have to get the reactions of my housemates first — Mr. Chef and Mr. Pudgy. I thought about just emailing the two for a lengthy explanation or writing them a short  note the way I did when I requested Mr. Pudgy to wash the dishes recently (“Will wash the dishes later in case Mr. Pudgy won’t…“) and he did. Another option is breaking the news over beer. but some might forgot the topic after a bad HO. So instead, it happened so casually, I got over the nerves and told Mr. Chef when he returned home late that evening then the next morning, while doing the dishes, I said my piece to Mr. Pudgy. I told him that I’m not leaving the blue and white house unless assured that the returning assignee will guarantee his stay no matter what.

I revisited my option, as if the decision I told the agent was easily revocable. Part of me doesn’t want to leave the blue and white house– I’ll miss Mr. Chef’s homecook meals, Mr. Pudgy’s *ssholiness, the creaking sound my bed makes, the closet I inherited, the rice cooking and dishwashing with view of the backyard, the food and drinks shared in the dining table, the familiar walk from house to shuttle station. Part of me feels anxious about transferring– the normal adjustment, the new roommate/housemates, the documented house rules, the brown rice, the new bigger space and the slightly higher rent. What I find weird about this whole thing is that it shouldn’t feel like it’s a sacrifice on my end but it doesn’t quite feel like seeking convenience either. Then as the days leading to month end become fewer, I have to pinch myself more often and accept that my hours staying in the blue and white house are getting shorter. Unless of course, the returning assignee decides not to live here or Mr. Chef and Mr. Pudgy suffer depression in the next few days or the landlord begs me to stay which is least likely.

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 22nd, 2009 at 10:08 am and is filed under Diary. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.