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The transplant was a success. Last night was the first I spent sleeping in my new apartment, which has thus far proven to be un-haunted.

After work yesterday Brad generously spent about an hour helping me move my limited possessions from storage into my vacant single bedroom apartment. I spent the rest of last night re-assembling furniture while trying to decide where everything belongs. I gave up on searching for ultimate bachelor feng shui around one in the morning and went to bed.

Work was wild today. As school resumes Chico’s population swells and all those students need bikes. Today was the kind of day where you promise same-day service to more early customers than you probably should, sweat through the hours as more walk-ins pile up and basic repairs turn into necessary overhauls, and your lunch break is bitten into at both ends by waves of bargain hunting parents. And yet somehow by the time five thirty rolls around everything seems to get done; loose ends are tied, a root beer gets cracked, and the register is very happy. I could go for gold in some kind of bike shop world championship.

I walked home with a bag full of groceries from the co-op across the street. Apparently during my three week homeless interim I’ve forgotten how to shop for groceries. I bought eggs, but have no butter to fry in them nor spices to add flavor. Peanut butter and raspberry jam but no bread to spread it on, pasta and sauce, but I am without pot or colander. In time I’m sure I’ll get my kitchen together, or starve.

Tonight more progress was made toward a pleasing geometry of living space. I want this place to feel like someone lives here, and I guess the only way to achieve that effect is to do it. Following my brother’s advice I’m only unpacking boxes as their contents become necessary, and the rest serve as place holders for imaginary couches, tables, and chairs.

You ought to send me things to decorate these blank walls.