Hitting the Homestretch

A couple of big events have taken place in my transient life, but before we get to that, my baby girl has taken to smiling at us with frequency. And staring and actually interacting for long stretches of time. It is quite remarkable. Quite good.
Back to the news now. First, yesterday morning I had to buy a metrocard that isn't unlimited. I had to stand at the machine and mentally count up the number of subway rides I would take between now and September 17th. $45 is the most they let you buy at one time, and including the $6.75 free bonus you get at that level, and considering that a single ride is $2.25(1), I have 23 rides. This is less than the amount I will need, so since I am not accustomed to looking at the little display on the turnstile when swiping, I can guarantee that sometime around September 14th I will walk straight into a rigid turnstile, and hard too because after 7+ years here I am a pro at swiping quickly and smoothly and getting through as fast as possible.
The next thing is, to me, a big step in our transition. We went to the grocery store on Sunday and we only bought things we would for sure use in the next three weeks. No grabbing the bottle of green curry sauce cause it might be fun, no stocking up on penne because it's on sale, no acquisition of frozen foods of any kind, and no olive oil even though we are very close to being out of it and of course it's a staple. Planning a move, scheduling the rental, closing utilities accounts, haggling with the landlord about the timeliness of the return of the security deposit: these are all things you do because you must. They are part of a timeline and are done without emotion or a sense of context, like walking up stairs. A move doesn't affect you on a daily level really until it affects your stomach. Sometime in the next week, I want to make pasta with the delicious little mini dried ravioli that they sell at Trader Joe's, but since I didn't buy the meatballs I am stuck with plain marinara sauce. I also decided not to buy another jar of honey cause we'd never use it in three weeks and it seems stupid to move a jar of honey a thousand miles, so now when we make a salad it will be too vinegar-y for my tastes because I can't add honey.
I also now feel a stronger need to plan my meals. I know there are still two cartons of butternut squash soup, so I know we must eat it soon even though who in the hell wants butternut squash soup when it's 90 degrees outside?(2) There is also a jar of pre-made cheap-looking pesto sauce that I'll feel obligated to eat, even though why does jarred pesto sauce even exist?(3)


1. Inflation. It was $2.00 when I first moved here. Though, they say that the price of a slice of pizza mirrors the price of a subway ride, that it has been a close relationship over time. If this is true, then all you subway riders are in for an increase, because slices average about $2.50 right now.
2. Maybe we could eat it cold? I really love all types of soup and since I'm a normal human being, I really love the summer, but at least for me, the two do not go together at all. I will be a soup-cooking machine in Chicago.
3. Basil, oil, nuts, blender. It doesn't take any subtlety to make it, no perfect combination of exotic ingredients. To make things worse, the jar I have looks like an alfredo-y type of pesto. I hope it wasn't me that bought it, but I suspect it must have been like 99 cents or something and I couldn't resist. It is my dad's fault that I would do something like that. I promise to fight it.