The apartment is like an episode of The Twilight Zone, where everyone vanishes in the middle of the day and the only traces of life are half-prepared meals and running cars in the street and cigarettes still smoking in ashtrays. I was panicking a little when I first got in, because I had a car and a half full of stuff and none of it was going to fit. The place is unnerving! Every time I open a drawer or cupboard I find nearly empty condiment bottles or shoeboxes full of dead batteries. I have discovered four different remote controls for electronics that are no longer in the apartment. There are three blenders in the pantry and the wastebasket in my bedroom was half full.

         It's not that the place is dirty, so much as it feels like the previous renters just all got up and strolled out an hour before I got there. A fully furnished apartment and everything in it is yours, except you've never seen any of it before and don't understand how it's organized. The whole experience makes me feel autistic.

        I moved in Wednesday afternoon; the power finally came on about seven hours ago. My stuff is unpacked, the electric water heater is working, and I'm leeching this little scrap of wifi from somewhere. I am drunk on wine, and will wake up late tomorrow, make waffles, then go shopping for lightbulbs and groceries.

         Ah, yes.