Tonight is my last night in my rental. This was my first home back in New Orleans. I’ve known some good times in this home, despite the onset of the pandemic. I’ve hosted some of my favorite people, I’ve danced, I’ve sang, I’ve loved.
Yet, it was never mine. Never permanent. It always had a limit.
That limit is now.
It’s my last night sleeping here. Tomorrow night I lay in my comfortable bed in my new home. My permanent home. Or as much as anywhere I live can be permanent.
I was too sick with Covid to truly enjoy the day I closed on my little piece of paradise. I spent the following few weeks with fever in my bed, in the rental, and as soon as I was better, I was onto renovations.
Pretty much everything has been done pre-move that was expected. I feel a little behind and have a couple projects left, but it’s fully painted and ready for the baby and the spoiled ginger to see their new home. My baby, Satchmo, gets a big yard to run in. The ginger, River, is unwell but her cat post is gong between two tall windows. She will love it.
By this time tomorrow I will be laying in the same spot but in an entirely different location. I can’t wait to settle in, relax, and feel at home. In a space that belongs solely to me. In my favorite city on earth. Even during a global pandemic.