I just got back home after my house was fumigated for three days. It was not easy because I had to pack up everything that was consumable into bags. That means basically everything in my kitchen. Sure there were some things that were in its original air-tight packaging that I could leave out. But some things still were not good enough.
There were so many things to pack, especially things in my fridge. Oh this was so much. Then little things like tea bags, Ramen noodles, granola bars, etc. What a long time.
Then we had to move out our valuables to another places because thefts are very possible during these things. Luckily after three days, nothing was stolen and everything was in good order. But man, now I have to put it all back. No. I will make my housemates do it. I did all the packing by myself. I won’t put everything back.
So I moved into a new place last week officially and today I wanted to share with you a video of my new room and some other things in the house. Pretty big house but totally cool in what I can do with it. Enjoy!
So I will be moving to a new place in the beginning of June. Thank God for blessing me and my friends with this new place.
But I haven’t told my landlady that I am moving out. When is a good time to do this? I actually have more time because I plan to not move out of my current place until the end of June. I don’t have the luxury to pack everything and just move it to the new spot. So throughout the entire month I will be making small trips to the new place and dropping off things.
Plus I don’t even have a mattress to bring to the new place, so I gotta sleep somewhere. But yeah, when should I notify the landlord? I know soon is good but I know a month is my cutoff point. I still have time. Probably tomorrow.
Farewell. I am going to miss driving through this bridge.
Growing up in the East Bay, I had never needed a reason to go to San Francisco. However, since my parents both went to church in Chinatown in the City, I would have to go with them on Sundays.
Every Sunday, they would drive to San Francisco through the Bay Bridge. Every morning on those Sundays, I would watch as we crossed the bridge. I would remember just crossing it and just look out to the waters.
Following church, it was back on the bridge. I would sometimes fall asleep on the ride there. Other times, I’d just listen to music as my dad drove. I even notice the fixed part of the bridge my dad would drive over. That was the part that had to be repaired after the 1989 earthquake.