Home Sweat Home

For once Meagan did what she promised. She got me an apartment in a small section H-8 housing complex that was all seniors and disabled regular folks. It's not a big complex like the one I was in when I first starteda blogging.

This place is about maybe forty aparments, two stories, on a thin slice of street between two converging rivers. It's tannish brick and all the places are one bedroom. No community centers, no snobby pea hens trying to play canasta, eat dainties, cheat at their games and gossip. That's the good stuff.

Now for the bad. On one side we gots a auto body shop and on the other a big commercial bread bakery. So we got to put up with the banging and clanging of the auto shop during the day and the tantalizing smell of fresh baking bread all night. There are some hot guys working at both places and I can see the bakery from my bedroom window.

The place is okay, a little small, but it's all  mine! Meagan got me some sort of a victim of crime (because of the cult) stipend to start over. She took me down to the Goodwill local nice dept store to pick out furniture and stuff I needed with the money. Now I'm set up on my own, not alot of stuff yet but the start, including a new wardrobe. Plus it turns out that some of my belongings were put in storage while I was away so I didn't need as much as I thought I might! All my good men-lurin' undies and L Anne Carrington books were intact.

It's taken me the better part of this week to settle in and get the place just the way I like it.  But I've had to sleep in because the bakery men are keeping me awake all night, the smells and I see them when they come out to catch a smoke. Wonder what's the best way to strike up a conversation with one of those studs.