Tomorrow morning I move from the house in NW DC to a house just a mile and a half away, over the Maryland border. I'm happy to be moving someplace with a washing machine and air conditioning, but I'll miss the awesome Ethiopian food and proximity to Rock Creek Park that the current location offers.
This will be my fourth move in six months. December I moved out of my ex-girlfriends (or, more accurately, I picked up my stuff that she had boxed up in a blind rage). March I moved out of my loud landlord's and in with a veterinarian I worked with (the best living situation of the bunch, for the record-- man, do I miss having a live-in running partner and sharing vegetarian cooking). Then in April I moved from California to DC. And in the fall, I will move back to California. Stability? What's that? Totally overrated!
It's not much of a move actually. For the past two weeks I've been sleeping in my sleeping bag. There's no furnishings, so my clothes are not so neatly laid out on the wooden floor in piles (shorts, long pants, t-shirts, long sleeve shirts, running stuff). I like the simplicity, but having a dresser would help keep it a little less messy.
In addition to moving, seven more people are arriving to work on the project tomorrow. (That means sharing one bathroom with five other people.) I'm kind of sad about it because I think it will be louder and more hectic. Also, the current group of four has pretty good dynamics. Hopefully it will stay that way as the project grows.
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