Things That Will Happen In My Magical New Apartment -The Toast

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I am moving today and I am convinced that as soon as I enter into my new abode, no more problems shall ever befall me.

In my new apartment, I will have exactly as many books as fit onto my shelves, and they will remain color-coded for eternity. I will also reread them all and maintain a perfect memory of exactly what happens.

Herbs will grow plentifully on my windowsill, instead of withering into jagged, dry stems.

I will become crafty. Instead of ending the work day and watching reruns of Shark Tank I will take up knitting. I will darn all my socks. I will sand and refinish cabinets and install molding and everything will be made of reclaimed wood. Never a beam shall enter my home that has not been claimed at least once before.

My new apartment is probably covered in some magical paint that will never, ever show smudges. Or if it does smudge they will be easily washed away instead of showing a vague, lighter but larger stain around where I tried to clean them.

Marie Kondo will ask me for advice about folding shirts.

The cats will never drag bits of litter with them across the floor after they’ve used the litter box, and their urine will smell like standing in a circle of fir trees.

No one in my new building will be learning to play a loud instrument for five years.

In my new apartment there will be no dust. My cats will have the decency to leave any errant hairs on the balcony. My skin will never shed because it will have turned into pure silk. All shaved hairs will magnetize and clump together in an easy-to-toss ball. The Roomba will be used for entertainment purposes only. I will never sneeze again.

No wires will protrude from ANYWHERE.

In my new apartment all those burn stains on my pots and pans will come right off on the first scrub instead of my having to stand at the sink rubbing a sponge in a circle for half an hour and still be left with brown spots and little grease stains.

In my new building I’ll never have an awkward conversation with my upstairs neighbor where I have to explain to him that I’m not Jewish. Instead my new neighbors will greet my husband and I with fruit baskets upon our arrival and we’ll have rotating dinner parties for eternity. Nobody will hear anyone else have sex.

A gnome lives in the garbage chute who will sort all my recycling for me.

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