It’s our last night here and like every other apartment we’ve lived in while in Chicago, I’m not sad to say good-bye. It’s time to move on. I am ready, oh so ready.
We’ve been here for over two years and for the most part, 865 has treated us well. Even with the sexist landlord who means well but still manages to say the dumbest shit such as, “wow, he does his OWN laundry? You have him trained well!” Ugh. Eye roll.
When I think about our time here I can’t help but recall the very first night when Chris and I watched a black lab run into the street and get hit right before our eyes. You can read about it in this post. And then take comfort in the fact that I see this lab and his owner about once a week around the neighborhood and it always makes me incredibly happy.
I’ll miss seeing those two around.
I’ll also miss my UPS guy. I’m not kidding, he’s the greatest. He’s always happy and knows Harlow doesn’t hate him when he barks like a maniac every time he comes to the door, that’s just Harlow saying Hi, Darnell!
I’ll miss the drinking fountains at Wrightwood park, the nanny group that sings at Jonquil park, and the man who walks across a tight rope tied between two trees at both parks who always has the biggest smile on his face.
I’ll miss the donut truck that parks on Lincoln Street, the man outside of Starbucks who sells Streetwise and always says “have a blessed day,” and the badass cross walk woman on Wrightwood who will flip anyone the bird who even thinks about driving through a crosswalk when kids (or me and Harlow) are near between the hours 2-4 p.m.
I’ll miss hula hoop girl, always on her stoop with a joint in her mouth, a braid down her back, and a hoop around her waist. She has a good soul, you can tell just by watching her hula.
I will not miss the grumpy old man two doors down who gives both Harlow and I very bad vibes. I’m pretty sure he drives the old blue car covered in duct tape that is always parked near the fire hydrant and I won’t miss that eye sore either.
I won’t miss our tiny bathroom, our crappy front door that never shuts when it gets too cold, or our dishwasher that doesn’t even pretend to work these days. Farewell to our small bedroom, and our even smaller closet.
I won’t miss our poor working heat where in the dead of a Chicago winter we could actually feel the cold fronts move in during the middle of the night. We’d wake up at 2 a.m. and have to put on another fleece jacket and grab the other space heater from the living room.
And I certainly won’t miss our dungeon laundry room. I’m still surprised no dungeon monsters captured me down there forcing me to live the rest of my life trapped in the basement whilst the rest of the upper world went on with life having no idea where I was, when all along I was IN THE DUNGEON!!!
*I may have played out that scenario a time or two while I laundry…
But I know as time passes I’ll forget about grumpy old man, the scary laundry room, and the crappy dishwasher. Instead 865 will live in my memory as the apartment that we came into as girlfriend and boyfriend, then became an engaged couple, and are now leaving as husband and wife.
I have a feeling in ten years we’ll look back on this time in our life, this moment in which we’ve become so accustomed to cramped spaces, sharing one shower, sink, ext, a bed that takes up the entire room. Me working and growing my business from our tiny guestroom/t-shirt room. Ordering pho 3 times a week from Simply It in the winter because it’s only $12 and it’s too cold to get anything else. Falling asleep every night to the faint buzz of the train from a few blocks away. And when we do, all of these moments will probably be some of our favorite memories.
Because in a few short days we’ll turn the keys over to the new people and just like that 865 will be in our past, a part of the good old days.