Agreement with the Enemy - Keys (9.)
In September, my daughter started school. Thanks to the fact that we moved to my dad's place, traveling across half of Prague was reduced to a few tram stops, which I welcomed with gratitude. A nice hour to catch up on homework and other school duties.
Great. Oh, yeah. But still pretty demanding. At least for me. While he was perfectly happy because he'd made new friends a few floors down, we were greasing up homework, trying to keep the room livable and feed all the members of the household.
Food played a very important role in our relationship and was his great passion. He belonged to the category of so-called "profession lifters". A tireless taster of everything. Probably the only area where I "succeeded" 100% and was the proud recipient of the verbal award "You deserve a Nobel Prize". From the door, he was asking "What's for dinner?" Can you imagine anything more? Just TOP and then HOP on one!
Every day he selflessly and selflessly cleared the fields so as not to disturb. He protected our "safety" from outside influences and willingly guarded the front door of the house from the table with a cool drink, so that hopefully no one would accidentally... even glance at me. He used to joke, "There's a lot of danger for a young girl today." And so I stood in the safety of the stove, washing machine, and syllabary, counting the days to my supposed freedom.
At last, we had arrived. In the darkened, smoky office, it was almost impossible to see. It was a small, typically socialist little room. I can still remember the atmosphere and a kind of mundane ceremony of the whole act. All of us new owners were waiting for our turn. The contract said that we were both members of the cooperative. A short sentence that became absolutely crucial a year or so later. But I won't get ahead of myself. There's time for that.
In any case, if the terms and conditions you are about to sign seem perfectly logical, clear, and unquestionable to you, have their meaning and correctness confirmed just to be sure. Preferably in writing. And ask semi-politically. About everything. Even if it makes you look like an illiterate imbecile. You may save yourself a lot of disappointment and unnecessary trouble. I didn't do it then.
Happiness completely overcame me because "We have the keys!" Nothing else existed at that moment.
Not much water has gone down since the last move. It took away the hectic packing phase. Things were basically in boxes, we only had furniture sporadically, so there wasn't much to deal with. We were done in a few hours.
I've never lived in an apartment that big before. Four rooms, two toilets, loggia, big spacious kitchen, clean, full of sun, playground behind the house, close to school... Just beautiful! It didn't even bother me that we are the first completed block of flats and the rest of the estate is a building site.
It was a nice little block of flats, too. Four floors, with several entrances, two families on each floor, and lots of kids. Everyone was in the same heady state. A kind of euphoria where we were closer to each other in a human way.
I spent my first night there alone. My daughter was at her grandmother's and he was at some assembly or something. Apart from the first inhabitants, there wasn't a soul around. Ideal for all sorts of thieves. The elevated ground floor made it really tempting to check out the new apartments. I was just entering the living room from the kitchen when I saw a dark figure on the balcony.
Our eyes met for a second. It quickly dawned on me that the person in question hadn't come to help me unpack. My heart flew into my throat. I grabbed the noodle roller and heroically ran to the balcony door. Fortunately, the figure jumped down and disappeared into the darkness. Thank God! No one would have made me go to the balcony at that moment.
Shaken like a dear dog, I curled up (with a roller for good measure) on our "new" super variant combo sofa (six old mattresses covered in stained hospital laundry bags). However, I was unable to sleep.
Within a week there was a grate. Thank goodness.
7. Sorry - The apartment was really nice, but it was really just a desire to be independent. Maybe if we had just stayed friends, we would have enjoyed it more. We had similar interests and the same style of humor. The kind of proper dry one that all our friends envied. If I'd admitted it sooner, things might have been different.
