Did You Change Your Underwear?

Did you change your underwear?

Did you brush your teeth?

It’s a great day to make a new friend. 

These are the words written in chalk half a block from my new apartment. Ones I pass often.

They lead to the elementary school a stones throw away from me. Written before the first day of the “Sea Dragons” new school year- a day which I heard through my open window. Children cheering, I presume during a welcome back assembly. 

And I think about how I wish there was a welcome assembly in my new apartment. My first ever apartment that is solely mine, so I don’t know who would do the cheering.

Maybe the foundation of the apartment welcomes me. Not Edgar Allen Poe, someone living in the walls type of thing- though I’d be cool with a ghost. It’s more that, through moving, I’ve discovered that a space is a living entity.

You must navigate the space as the space finds a place for it’s new inhabitant.

Like the kids going to their new classrooms, moving comes with excitement and trepidation. It’s fun to get brand-new school supplies, organize a different desk or cubby with a fun name plate to make on that first day.  But the school supplies are different from last years.

“What will I need this protractor for? Can I handle whatever I’ll be learning that utilizes this tool?”

Plus, there’s this strange need to change up the way you arrange your pencil case, to make a name plate better than last years. One that represents the new identity you’ve romanticized entering an older grade.

There’s that same inner desire to be a better person than you were at your previous place. Whether it’s to keep it cleaner or to finally establish a morning routine.

“New cubby, new first day of school outfit, new me.” However, there are external forces at work- a different teacher, a different lunch time, a different curriculum.

The same goes with a new apartment- even when there’s no one else there and your lunch time can be whenever the hell you want.

Stuff will inevitably go wrong. Something will be broken in the apartment. Setting up internet will take longer than intended. You’ll put a piece of furniture somewhere, then realize it works better across the room, but debate the placement for hours on end because this is the new you! It must be perfect.

I almost crave having a desk assignment and a curriculum. A school announcement speaker in my room, giving me guidelines for the day.

“Good Morning, residents of (address). It’s a beautiful day outside but will get chilly so bring your coat when you leave. Don’t forget rent is due in twelve days and please mail that fucking RSVP to the wedding. Also, YES YOU TOOK YOUR MEDS and turned off your straightener.”  

A bell that tells me when I should move to working on something else. Perhaps this isn’t universal. It could be because I have an unconventional work life. Or because I deal with poor executive functioning skills and perfectionism. However, I know that those kids down the way are experiencing similar feelings.

The unique wind chill in the morning air on the first day of school, characterizing the thrilling mix of a new beginning and unfamiliarity in a familiar world. Tip-toeing in your fresh shoes because you’re still getting used to them and you don’t want to get a speck of dirt on them. Only halfway settled for the first month or so- still writing last years date, part of you wondering if it would be easier to have stayed in last years classroom.

Like if your best friend from last year isn’t in your class this year- you pass them in the halls, dramatically making eye contact and waving a solemn “hello,” as if you’ve been separated during war.

But the chalk says “it’s a great day to make a new friend.” Eventually, you will make that new friend. Eventually, my apartment will feel more like a friend than a stranger. Maybe I’ll even go so far as making friends with a neighbor. 

We know that the Sea Dragons will be okay, even the most nervous of them. That the new sneakers will eventually get worn- that they’ll get a speck of dirt on them but also get more comfortable. That they’ll learn to use the protractor step by step. Their pencil case may revert back to its old organization, but does it really make a difference?

Will it kill my being if I continue to do my morning routine of coffee and word games on my phone instead of hot water with lemon and metitating?

The kids made it to the next grade, and I made it to having my own place. We’ll both figure out the space where we spend- what feels like- a majority of our time. They’ll establish a rapport with their teachers,  and I’ll establish one with my foundation. I promise, I’m not talking to my apartment (just to myself more often).

The point being, if you recently moved or started something new, allow yourself to treat it like the first day of school. You don’t need to have it all figured out.

What matters is that you change your underwear and remember to brush your teeth. 
The rest will come.