Bittersweet

In my 26 years, I've never felt the emotion "bittersweet" in a stronger sense.

Over the last week I've been packing up all our belongings from our first home (a teeny tiny apartment) in order for us to move into a real live house that we bought with our own real live money.

(Well, with a mortgage, but who's counting?).

We love our apartment.

We've made SO many memories here, but we are slowly but surely outgrowing it every day.

Besides, we REALLY need a place big enough to hold a king sized bed.

I think the thing I won't miss the most is trying to cram two humans and two dogs into one queen bed each night.

In lieu of my ridiculously emotional state, I compiled a list of a few other bittersweet items that I will miss and won't miss about our current living situation:

I also won't miss the proximity to loud neighbors, but I will miss the proximity to great shops and restaurants.

I won't miss our miniature yard, but I will miss seeing my post-work welcoming committee on the gate each day. 

I won't miss the pups barking insanely at every single stranger who walks by, but I will miss the pups coming in everyday smelling like rosemary.

I won't miss the ragers and douchers and Jersey Shore-ers who take over the pool on the weekends, but I will miss the peaceful moments at the pool (sans douchebags) during the week.

Heck, I'll just miss having a pool period.

I won't miss the excessive amount of rabbits which cause the dogs to go absolutely bonkers at all hours of the day, but I will kind of miss watching the pups creep on the previously mentioned rabbits.

I won't miss walking home from late nights at Scruffie Duffies, but I will sure as heck miss walking home following a few moscow mules at Fireside Pies and grapefruit palomas at Mexican Sugar.

I won't miss searching for a parking spot, being forced to park suuuuuuper far away and having to carry groceries suuuuuuuper far, but I will miss socializing with neighbors and their pups along those previously mentioned suuuuuuper far walks.

I won't miss the lack of trick-or-treaters (still confused how we couldn't manage to distribute one piece of candy to a single child), but I will miss the festive holiday events and all the free food nights provided by our apartment complex.

I won't miss our apartment's lame excuse for a dog park (30x10ft), but I will miss the huge fenced in drainage ditch field thingy that we turned into our own dog park.

I won't miss our miniature yard (I know I already said this-- I am incredibly thankful we were even lucky enough to get a unit with a yard), but I will miss relaxing spring and fall evenings in our plastic adirondack chairs in the previously mentioned miniature yard.

I won't miss Molly being able to squeeze her little puppy body through our fence, but I will also miss Molly being able to squeeze her little puppy body through our fence.

I won't miss the crowds and the drink prices at Henry's, but I will miss the drinks (cough, 100+ beers on tap, cough) at Henry's.

I won't miss our loud yippy neighbor dogs, but I will miss our sweet smoochy neighbor dogs.

I won't miss the painful music blasting from the speakers at the pool all day every day, but I will miss walking ten steps out our front door and being able to be at the pool.

I won't miss all the daily dog walks through the jungles and weeds and bushes which they have somehow forced into becoming a ritual, but I will miss their excitement with simply hearing the word "outside"

I will miss every single thing about GingerMan Bingo.

Just bitterness there, no sweet involved.

I've never been one to embrace change all that well, but once upon a time my uncle told me to read "Who Moved My Cheese"

It really made a huge impact on my way of thinking when it comes to change.

I'm a creature of habit (and I love cheese more than anyone should), and this book really got me thinking on how beneficial it can be to put fear of the unknown aside and embrace the potential of the new.

Two of my favorite lines from the book are:

"The quicker you let go of old cheese, the sooner you can enjoy new cheese"

and

"Savor the adventure and enjoy the taste of new cheese!"

At the end of my four years in college, I remember thinking, that was fun, but four years was jusssst enough.

After two years in our apartment, I'm starting to recall those same feelings.

These last few years have been some of the most fun years of my life, but the desire for a little change is slowly creeping in.

The timing is perfect.

Two whole years at this great complex, in an apartment with a yard, facing a huge pool, walking distance to all of our favorite bars and restaurants, is seeming like jussssst enough.

We are embracing the change and moving the cheese.