Ladies and gentlemen. This is monumental. After my six-month sabbatical from life, the time has come. I'm moving back to Minneapolis!
I'm packing up my bags and boxes and heading to a beautiful complex right off Loring Park, which happens to be home to one of my all-time favorite brunch spots. The building is the coolest fusion of an old hospital building with a super sleek, contemporary renovation...and is it ever a saga how I ended up in my particular building!
Back in July, I toured the complex with my parents in tow and got myself on the wait list. In August, I got a great little unit that had been corporate housing, with an October 4th move-in date. It was white, it was bright, it was super clean and compact and just plain girly. And I got super excited.
A little over a week ago, I left a meeting at work and came back to my desk to find three voicemails from my leasing agent, each increasingly frantic. Turns out when the building's former property manager left, she had screwed up all the corporate housing lease renewals and entered them in the system as notices to vacate. My pretty apartment wasn't actually available. Cue panic attack.
I immediately called my parents, who met me over there after work that afternoon. Michael, the property manager, was super accommodating and told us they would do whatever they could to remedy the situation. The beautiful thing about how the situation got remedied, though, is that it was a TOTAL win for me. You see, the first apartment Michael took us up to was this beautiful apartment on the top floor of the "historic" part of the building. It was 30 square feet bigger, the cabinets and finishes were all upgraded, there is exposed ductwork, and...be still my beating heart...it has a gas fireplace. My dad totally played up the "poor little girl who has no apartment, MAKE IT RIGHT" card, and Michael almost instantly agreed to match my original lease cost. Upgrade!!
It hardly feels real right now that I'm headed back to Minneapolis. This six-month sojourn in the suburbs has been exactly what I needed...a vacation from life, a sabbatical from the social whirl, a sweet, supportive oasis where my mom made my lunches and my dad made me laugh, where I went to bed to the words "I love you" every night and woke up to fresh coffee for the road. I can't discount that, especially as wounded and totally demolished as I was when I moved down here in April. This summer healed me so much faster than I thought was even possible, and I don't think "grateful" entirely captures the gamut of what I feel toward my parents for patiently providing me this escape.
That said, there comes a point in every young lady's life when it's time once again to spread her wings and fly, and I can't wait to fly back downtown. The location is ideal for my commutes to work and for my Sunday family dinners, and my friends are spread out perfectly around me. I can't wait to have great restaurants and entertainment a walk away, rather than a half-hour drive. And the best part is that my safe little oasis isn't going to go away...it's just transforming to a corner apartment with a warm fire and cozy kitchen. I'm ready...here's to the Cities!