Today is moving day. I actually only move about 600 meters to the right, but believe me, the shortness of the distance is inversely proportional to the degree of luxury I am moving into.
We've all seen those movies where the lead character (or as my grandmother used to say "ang guapo" and in my case, ang guapa) lives in a huge loft that takes up the whole floor? Well, my apartment is not that big, and no, it's not a loft (windows are floor to ceiling though) but dig this: it takes up the whole floor.
No shit.
When you get off the elevator on my floor, there is only one door. My door.
I cannot get over this. There is is no hallway, no noisy neighbors. No children, no pets.
(Thank you, God. Not just for the absence of noise, but for the beautiful apartment.)
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