6138 Compton
Moving. The bittersweetest of endeavors.
Yes, it's the worst. A strong motivating factor for staying in Indy was the avoidance of the move process. Ultimately job availability won out.
This round of packing has once again stirred the nostalgic embers; rummaging through old stuff will do that. So many memories with this move are tied to the apartment itself. Almost two-and-a-half years in Indy!
The memories:
*Mom and I raced into Indy, completing a 2,250 mile drive across three time zones. We needed to pick up my keys by 5:00pm. We must have arrived at the apartment complex at 4:45pm. The super ushered us into my new home. I had signed the lease sight-unseen. Back in Seattle, I had spent every free minute scouring apartment sites for new Indy listings. The ad for this apartment was miserable. No interior shots. Just this sad, borderline-communist looking building covered in snow. The location was ideal though, and the price was right. Email exchanges with the leasing manager reassured me. I took the chance. "This is perfect!" mom said as we walked in. Hardwood floors. New kitchen. New bathroom. She was right. It was perfect.
*The super gave me two warnings: 1) Don't go south. It's dangerous. 2) Watch out for the parties in Broad Ripple. I immediately confronted both. I turned out fine.
*These hardwood floors. Pacing. One early morning in particular, it was the morning of Clin Med Exam #2. Antibiotics. I was trying to cram it all in during an all-nighter. I paced these floors as I tried to fill my brain with information. There was the realization that this time, it wasn't going to all fit. Simply too much. Anxiety would spike for a few minutes, then I'd suppress it as I focused on the information at hand. I ultimately failed that exam. It was a teachable moment -- cramming wasn't going to work in PA school.
*4:00am. The hour of productivity. Every morning, I'd be up at 4:00am, studying. I'm not a morning person, but that is when my mind feels freshest. There's a sound to 4:00am. The crickets. The silence. The neighbor, large guy, never got his name, who went out to his car every morning at around 5:30am. In the summer, it was a time to escape the heat. During the winter, a time to mix a cup of tea. Waking up at 4:00am regularly started to wear me down. Some nights it was 3:00am. Others it was 1:30am. I'd leave my bedlight lamp on through the night to help rouse me from bed. Multiple alarms were set. One sat on my dresser, which would force me to stand up in order to turn it off. Another, from Goodwill, was so old school that there were no buttons, only switches, thus, I could fling my arm across the bed and thwack the snooze button. A process was required. During the last week of didactic year, a particularly hellacious period of exams, I lay in bed with the lamp on and two alarms blaring. It was a 3:00am wake-up call. "I just can't..." I thought to myself. I did.
*The telephone pole outside my study window. It's where I locked up my bike. Rain or shine, hot or cold, I rode that bike to campus. Miscues taught me to get to campus by 6:00/7:00am to set up a study session. That class was watching my every move, including when I arrived. In the summer months, it would be earlier, so-as to avoid the heat and humidity. In the winter months, it would be earlier, so as to ride with daylight (and warmth-ish). Riding home at night was always a personal delight. In the winter, everything was silent. I usually rode with one earbud, allowing me to listen to "fun" music for 20 minutes out of the day. Often, I would avoid that and enjoy the silence. In the summer, fireflies would light my path home. There is this one house on the Monon, they have a light display that makes it look like phosphorus was thrown along the trail. Riding through that was such a joy! My bike was eventually stolen. Someone clipped the lock. Took the bike AND the clipped lock. My car would eventually also park by that telephone pole.
*The "Fuck it dude, let's go bowling" sticker. Kevin randomly mailed it to me. It arrived on a particularly stressful day. I hadn't done well on an exam. That sticker hangs on the white board that I scratched up while trying to clean. Before I leave, it will be added to the box outside.
*The soundtracks. NPR in the morning. "Peaceful piano" for early morning study sessions. "Lo-Fi House" later in the morning. "Berlin Techno" for the all-nighters.
*The broken lamp globe. It fell. Unprompted. The first time Colleen came over. It remained cracked thoughout.
*The shoe organizer. Purchased during an in-between semester cleaning binge. There was never time for cleaning during the semester. Once finals ended, it was an assault on dust.
*The can crusher. With no recycling in our building, I had to carry it to the next complex. My consumption of canned seltzer water and Marie Callender's frozen dinners led to an increase in recyclables. "Did you buy that or did it come with the apartment?" Julie once asked me. "Bought it," I said. She then kissed me.
*The massive periodic table of elements display in the kitchen. I swiped it from Butler. Spring semester. That semester, I had tired of the negativity pervading parts of the class. Premeditatively, I sat next to Alex and Jess. The negativity disappeared. I don't know that I would have survived without that. Jess and I would joke about these giant periodic table posters. Printed in 1985. They were older than she was!
*Blue Indy. I could see the all-electric cars-for-rent from my couch. An extremely under-utilized resource for Indy residents! It ferried me to class during inclement weather. It took me to the airport (front row parking!) for $6! It got me downtown for half the price of an uber (with free parking!). Hooray Blue Indy!