Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Establishing the "New Normal"
I'm not quite sure who said it first, the term "New Normal" but I like it. It suits exactly what we've been seeking for the past month. Yes, we've been in our new home for a month. Thirty-five days to be exact. And while we're almost there, to this new sense of normalcy, there's still so much that feels strange to me.
For example, the complete lack of space! I KNEW we were downsizing. I KNEW we were cutting our living space in half. Seriously, kids, we went from 1400 square feet to 700. Oi! Today I was trying to organize the closet. And you read that right: THE closet. One and only. There I was, thinking I was helping, pulling out all my t-shirts and long sleeve shirts that didn't require ironing when all I was really doing was making room for the dresses I completely forgot were draped over the small shelf shoved in said closet.
Did I mention the closet is tiny? And that it's being used for TWO people?
After literally shifting one pile of clothes for another I asked the empty bedroom whose brilliant idea this was, moving into a house small enough that you can sit in the middle of the bed and practically touch the walls on either side?
Oh yeah. That would be MY brilliant idea.
Another example: the coffee shop. Now, I know this may not be a big deal for most people. Most people go to THAT place. You know, the one with the siren and the plethora of warm, sweet drinks (the chai latte of which I must admit, I am a big fan). For us, however, we need a small, cozy, quirky place in which to drink our black beverage of choice. Or tea. I'm still hopelessly addicted to Earl Grey. Back where we're from there was ONE such place within a 50 mile radius. And they knew us there. Literally. We hung out there every week. They are our friends and considered in many ways family.
Here, there are no less than 5 coffee shops in a 5 mile radius. And I like them all. They all have something unique going for them. They also all have their drawbacks. I'm needing a place I feel I can go to, get to know the baristas enough that they will soon be privy to my own hot drink sensation: The British Imperialism in a Cup.
We'll talk about that in another post :p
Today, dear readers, I feel I may have found a suitable substitute. See that mug at the top of the post? That sits atop a random table in said coffee shop where Jon and I sat in mismatched leather chairs and wrote for a good hour and a half. It's a big, open place, painted grey and black. They play 1940's and 50's music. The barista was dressed like a barber from 1933. A bizarre painting of The Ramones hung in the hall and the bathrooms were easy to find. It's quirky without being pretentious. It's moody without being a haven for hipsters. The Earl Grey didn't suck!
I liked it, Dear Reader! In fact, I liked it a lot. Bonus points: it's 1.5 miles from my house. In fine weather I will be walking.
I have not established true normalcy yet, Dear Reader, but the tentative courting stage of Coffee Shop to Write In has begun. Here's hoping!