This morning I took my dad to the airport, thus signifying the beginning of my solo adventure. And now, sitting here at 5:30, blaring my itunes and staring at my kitchen, let me recap the events of my first solo day of my first solo adventure.
Morning: The Importance of Hangers
I felt a rush of adrenaline walking down my street, back to my flat. I was so amped that despite the proper preparations, I decided to unpack all of my belongings and put them away. (Then end goal was to record a virtual tour of my flat for my mom…mission accomplished.) First I rearranged my room (my favorite past time) and then in a rush of excitement I dumped out all of my suitcases onto my bed. After filling the drawers of my dresser I turned to my closet, only to realize I had yet to buy hangers. Rookie mistake I suppose. Buying hangers wasn’t an option since I am completely ignorant about my neighborhood and am completely detached from the internet (except for when I visit McDonald’s, which may be everyday now). So for now, my “hanging necessary” clothes sit in a heap in my closet.
Afternoon: Movie, Dinner, and a Surprise
Nesting proves exhausting, so I decided to watch a movie after unpacking. I chose the Kite Runner, a movie I’ve owned for over a year but had never watched. I read the book a few years ago and have been slightly anxious about watching the terrible scenes I read about in the book. The movie proved to be completely heart breaking but also completely beautiful. If you haven’t watched it, I highly suggest it. But of course I think you should read the book as well, stimulate your mind and all that.
Once the movie was finished I walked to the nearest market. I’m sure the lady behind the counter could tell I am entirely new to the city because not only am I American but I was buying everything from toilet paper (the pink kind, do you remember it Greenwich friends?) to cans of soup to dish soap. (Not to mention that early in the morning I had asked the same woman how exactly I top up my electricity meter, something that seems to be common knowledge around here.)
I made dinner when I got home: a can of vegetable soup and a slice of bread, enticing I know. My OCD kicked in after dinner so once all the dishes were washed and on the drying rack, I turned my focus to the fridge. I had been told by the letting agency that it seemed to have a smell and could use a good cleaning. At the time I had no qualms with this, I never turn down an opportunity to scrub something until it smells like lemons. I noticed the stench wasn’t improving much so I open the freezer compartment to investigate and immediately found the problem. The previous tenants had left a surprise for me, a welcome package of no more than one bag of squid parts, one bag of barbequed chicken bits, and one carton of melted metropolitan ice cream.
Even sitting here on the couch now, the fridge still airing itself out, I can smell a hint of seafood, barbeque sauce, and spoiled milk. As much as I appreciate the gesture of a house warming present, previous tenants, a house plant would have been just fine.
