  I have completed my move. To say I am settled would be an overstatement, but I am getting there. I am already sleeping in a more sound manner. High ceilings and open space work wonders on mental health. Everything echoes. Conversation and loneliness.
To have this space fall into my lap has made the three years of struggle here in Chicago all worth it. Living in this building is a bit like a cross between the Real World, Queer Eye For The Straight Guy (before the gay guys arrive and sprinkle fairy dust on the place), and a factory job stuffing envelopes for an industrial lathe manufacturer. Open space equals clutter equals resemblance to a goodwill store. But I have a room! A large room which I am turning into a makeshift lounge for cold-chilling (as my friend Adam would say) and study. Soon, the bare white corner will be occupied with a Queen-Size bed.
Do you know how long it has been since I have slept in a bed of my own? Neither do I! Soon, though, I will. I can feel my back straightening already. And oh, the room I will have to roll and shift. Ladies, get in line!
Tomorrow, I have to scrub and clean my old apartment. My shoulders tense at the excitement of sweeping the last grains of uncooked rice into the dustpan and sucking the last strands of hair into my electric broom's neglected bag. As I scrub that last bit of mildew from the corner of the tub, I shall smile. I shall smile. Pictures of the new place will come soon. I'm currently taking reservations from visitors. 
