The thing is:
I don't realize that strangers walking into our humble abode will be irritated stressed out, and overwhelmed with the amount of animals we have and the high pitched squawks made by our many parrots that pierce the eardrums. Mostly the people who come over have been warned and so you can imagine my embarrassment when the plumber and his gorgeous son (who I had no idea was coming) walked into the door and the animal kingdom went wild. I made a point to explain that these are my mom's birds and that I'm moving away asap. That way, perhaps, the noise would seem out of my control and thus, it would be unfair for them to judge our lifestyle for it. Where's this going?
Well, because of this small incident, I've decided that when I move to our new place in SF, it will be a place of serenity, drunk nights, and a comfort zone for anyone who is welcomed. There won't be the high-pitched wails of our blind and hideously mean African Grey, there won't be seeds strewn across dirty tile, dog hair cemented to everything, and a cat that wriggles and thrashes in my arms as I answer the door. (Although I do love my cat, she was not a good prop to answer the door with). The first thing the plumber said as they walked in was "Woah, you have a lot of stuff" which basically means holy shit, you should call the producers of "Hoarders" to come out here.
So that's the other thing: our new place will be one of cleanliness and organization, a place where the shoes are put back and the coats are hung up. A place where dishes are washed and shelves are dusted (I say all this now).
I'm learning to change my environment based on my current environment. I'm not hating on my lifestyle, although, I could have done without the several parrots. I'm learning to shape myself around past/current experiences. I've looked at hundreds of pictures of home decor, small space decorating, and wall art to get an idea of how our city space will look.
Besides, I'm sure the plumber's son already has a girlfriend anyway. Next time I'll go to the door without a cat.
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