I Shouldn’t Be Alive

My life is so hard you guys. I’ve been living without a microwave, throw pillows, and a real piano. I honestly don’t know how I’ve done it—hence, I’m surprised I’m even ALIVE. What’s going to go next?? My collection of shoes?

Just kidding.

… Obviously. (I hope that was obvious. Do you think I’m high maintenance or something? Don’t answer that.)

It’s true, I have been living without those things, but it’s been kind of awesome. Here’s the story: we were driving one car to California and everything had to fit in the trunk. At the same time, I realized how much I hate packing and wanted to minimize the packing I’d have to do again for the return trip in 10 weeks. The result = only bringing things I thought were essential. Because of this, I’ve learned that life can indeed go on without the following items:

1. A car.

If you’re not living in a sketchy neighborhood, not a homebody, and don’t have a friend in your complex, this one might be a little harder. I’m not a cool earthy person who walks everywhere (although we did walk to Little Caesar’s once), but I simply know now that almost everything that makes me happy is contained within the walls of my own home. Or in the yard. I can still lay out, read, play the piano, draw, and see friends, so this no-car business is totally cool. (Don’t worry—Nathanael and I go to the grocery store on Saturdays. I’m not trying to live without food.)

2. A bunch of clothes.

I didn’t count how many shirts I brought but I think it’s under 10. And guess what? I AM FINE. Happy, even. I think I am going to seriously reconsider my wardrobe when I get back and keep only things I like. Why do I keep mediocre shirts from high school just in case? Or those pants that stretched out ages ago but I keep because they’re pants? I didn’t bring any of them with me and I don’t miss them.

3. A microwave.

Turns out heating things up in a pan in the oven takes like ten minutes and heating them up in the crockpot takes like five. Who knew? Maybe waiting that long sounds horrible to you. It’s really not bad at all. (Plus, I have a bad history with microwaves.)

4. Decorations.

I thought I might be a little bit sad without my gold frames and at least a rug or something—we all know it’s fun to have a personalized space! The tan walls and carpet here are bland, but I hardly notice. Long term I would want pictures of Nathanael and I everywhere and probably like a mauve, velvet armchair or something (you know, just the basics), but it’s good to know I can still like my apartment without them. One decoration I feel lacking: a picture of the Savior.

 

Here are the things I’ve learned are essential (in addition to love and all that cliche business):

1. A soap dish built in to the shower wall.

I didn’t even know they made showers without those. I srsly hate it. Putting the bar of soap on the side is slippery and gets water and mildew everywhere, apparently.

Or at least give me a shelf in the corner like this one.

2. A vacuum.

My carpet is going to look like Hagrid pretty soon here. No one should be allowed to sit on my floor with black pants. It’s that Nathanael with his long, curly hair!

3. Hobby things.

Like, if I didn’t have a book or two and an electric piano I think I maybe would die.

4. A robe.

I should’ve guessed this simply by the fact that after a certain hour, my mother can always be caught sporting a robe, but I just thought it was a Barbara thing. So I left my red velvet robe at home, thinking I could carry on without it. Not so. I bought another one. Peace has been restored.