I am at the end of the moving out and cleaning of Old Apartment. I can't help but sit in the living room sometimes, in the midst of scrubbing boogers off of walls (one of the J's is getting a talking to fersure) and rubbing stains out of the carpet, and I think to myself...
Well, I think about how damn fucking proud I am of myself. That apartment represented my strength and courage and independence. I took myself and my daughters out of a bad bad situation, and I created a place that was mine. I paid for it, not the government, not anybody else. I kept it clean. I learned new things. I faced some tough times.
I have some defining moments in my life, moments where I knew that my choice would forever alter my life. The first I can remember? When I decided to have a baby at 17. And the best thing? I've never regretted it, not once. Lessee, another? The fateful day when I decided I didn't want to be a Welfare Mommy anymore. Look what that has brought me! I met the man I am going to spend the rest of my days with when I got a job. And now that I have a better job? Well, what's not to love? My paychecks have four digits before the decimal point. I work during the day, I get weekends and holidays off. I have a freakin' retirement fund and health insurance. And I help people.
Goodbye, Old Apartment. Goodbye, crackhead neighbors. Goodbye, dirty screaming neighbor children. It's been fun.