Cheri is moving to, what feels like, her tenth place in less than half a year. “I felt like crying this morning as I was packing my stuff.” Her boxes are sorted out into two categories, 1) Further down the road and 2) Temporary. “The other day I had to go through a couple of my further-down-the-road boxes and it was like I’d been shopping! I didn’t know I owned this, that and the other. You just forget because you haven’t seen your full wardrobe in months.” She’s been living out of her luggage since, well, it all started last August. “I went from ex boyfriend to a dear friend’s place, to a new city, to a national tour, to a house sitting situation, and now to a friend’s couch while I figure out my next move. Is this what New York does to a person? “At first I didn’t mind the nomadic lifestyle but now it’s just getting ridiculous. And expensive.”
Cheri uses zipcar to move her temporary boxes from place to place, “I use to use the train,” she says, surprising herself. “I got my temporary boxes with me now but my down-the-road boxes are scattered in closets of different friends.” Sometimes these friends are willing to help and sometimes their schedule doesn’t allow it, leaving the day’s errands in her own hands. “Last month, I was schlepping my stuff to the house sitting place, I felt like my back went out. I’m thinking, oh-no, please don’t, I haven’t got insurance!” The tour’s over so she’s waiting for her insurance to kick in. She laughs it off. I’m glad she does, cause I can’t. She notices. “I met this girl the other day that gave me perspective though. She said, in New York, it takes one step forward, two steps back until you find your home. I really like that. Made me feel I’m ok.”
At some point it’s got to stop, right? At some point, the other shoe drops and all of a sudden, there’s an opportunity. A door opener. The right situation. The roommate that makes all the difference. The room that feels like it’s made just for Cheri.
Or not. But I’d prefer to have hope.