Currently, it's Saturday morning. I'm lounging on my love seat with my lap top on my lap, scanning through the many pages of my tumblr dashboard while watching The Goonies and drinking Cinnamon Spice Dunkin Donuts coffee (God, I love Saturdays). I'm sitting here thinking about how I want to buy a house. Daydreaming about all aspects of it. As I'm sitting here, I glance out my sliding glass door windows.
I'm on the second floor of my apartment building. Behind my building is a very steep, large hill. At the top of the hill the ground levels off to a parking lot that backs up to the next set of apartment buildings. I can see cars driving through the circle up there.
Well, I glance out the sliding glass door windows to see a large Uhaul-looking truck make the turn in the parking lot. Except the truck is not a moving truck, it's a piano moving company truck. Who knew there were moving companies specific to pianos?
Why is this significant to me, you ask? It is significant, especially at the very moment that I'm thinking of my potential new home, because I remember that I have a piano! My piano is an old upright player piano (the kind that you can set to play by itself). The piano used to belong to my grandparents. I took lessons for many years while growing up, and always when I went to my grandparent's house I would play their piano with my Pop. I would play and my younger cousin would dance on the circular braided rug behind me and play with my long hair. When my Pop died, I begged my grandmother to let me have it. She did.
That piano has been sitting in The Exe's parent's basement for four long years. I've never lived in the same place as it. We moved the piano there when we bought the house together, but hadn't finished our basement yet. That was where it was going to go. Obviously that plan went to shit and the piano is still sitting there.
As I'm sitting here I am reminded that when I buy my very own home I'll be able to bring that piano that means so much. I'm officially excited.
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