a Very odd morning.
the landlords (yes, we rent – haven’t taken the home owner plunge as yet – no idea where we want to live when we’re grown up, you see – apart from the Motion Picture Retirement Home, eventually, because it sounds like enormous fun) sent round someone to photograph the apartment.
you know, to List It (which means Strangers are going to be tramping through our space to see whether they feel this apartment is Right for them – sigh).
we sat at the long farmhouse (french-style) table (which is actually called Big Sur and yes, we bought it not just because it’s beautiful but the whole Big-Sur-Henry-Miller reference tickled us too) and stared nonchalantly into the middle distance and moved each time they said we’d be in shot (which was necessary because we don’t actually Come with the apartment and that would be False Advertising).
we did make our bed. and tidied away all of the belongings that feel precious and not-to-be-photographed (oh god, are we going to be stuck up in an estate agent/realtors’ window? horrors.)
but it felt so Invasive.
and yet we’re being Practical (for once).
they need to re-rent it.
we are going to Move.
this is what needs to Happen.
but we didn’t like it.
and we’ll like it Even Less when potential suitors for the apartment come to call in the early days of January 2013 to look around.
Unless they are gorgeously Fun and interesting and we decide to make a new friend.
you never know………Deeply Interesting characters have lived in Manhattan since the dawn of excellence and beauty.
this is a Beautiful apartment!
said the (actually very sweet) landlord’s photographer.
we blushed, prettily.
we murmured, trying not to get into a conversation.
why are you leaving?
we looked out of the window and for a moment couldn’t remember why.
it is ever such a long Story.