As you may have gathered from my previous post, Sean and I have made the move to Marietta, Georgia, a suburb of Atlanta in Cobb County. Sean found a job here last fall; I’m telecommuting to my job back in Augusta for the time being.
We’ve mostly settled in to our new apartment–the furniture’s arranged, the kitchen’s functional, and we just have a few boxes left to unpack. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind, dealing with moving and adjusting to our new place. I think we’re finally getting comfortable and falling into a good routine.
One of the nice things about working remotely is that my commute time is zero. Another nice thing is that I’m able to do things around the house on my lunchbreak. What makes it especially nice in our particular location is that I chose an apartment complex nestled in the woods, a cluster of cozy buildings scattered across hillsides carved out by streams leading down to a river, walking distance from a nature preserve.
I’ve walked down to the river and through forest trails twice now, once alone and once with our friends Charles and Heidi. Yesterday, I decided to explore the apartment grounds themselves.
The complex boasts the standard luxury apartment amenities, including a gorgeous clubhouse. It’s on the far side of the property from our apartment, and uphill to boot, so I got a good workout strolling over there on my break.I took my time, stopping for pictures everywhere, and I wandered off on side trips, enjoying the lovely landscaping and exploring what amenities the grounds have to offer. It almost felt like being up in the mountains, but warmer and busier what with the traffic from residents and the relative closeness of the buildings.
When I got to the clubhouse, I found most of the rooms manually locked–my key card worked, but the doors still wouldn’t open. The fitness center was available, and that was about it. I went up to the lounge and tried my key and was met with the same frustration.
“Do you have a key card?” asked a voice behind me. I turned; it was a cleaning lady.
“I tried it already,” I said, but dutifully pulled it out and tried again.
The lady tried the door too, using her own card. “It’s locked from the inside,” she said. “I don’t know why someone would do that.”
We walked to a different door, and she managed somehow to get that one open. “There you go.”
“Thanks!” I said, and went in.
The room’s very nice. Cozy isn’t the word, since it’s so big, but it’s comfortable. My attention was immediately drawn to the pool table in the back, and after a bit of looking around, I played a very weak, but fun, game of 8-ball with myself.
As I was racking the balls for a second game, the girl I’d passed at the desk on my way in opened the door.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I was just playing some pool,” I said.
“This room actually isn’t open right now.”
“…oh,” I said. “Well, I’ll just rack them back and be on my way!”
I wasn’t particularly embarrassed, which is impressive for me. I tidied up the pool table and hung the rounded triangle back on the accessories rack, then followed the girl back out of the room and downstairs. She let me know the hours the room is actually open (too few, really), and I thanked her and went on my way.
As I was strolling back towards my apartment, taking in the warm sun and tall trees, a silver car pulled up and honked lightly. I glanced over as the window rolled down.
“I’m so sorry!” the cleaning lady said. “I didn’t know it wasn’t open! I’m just the cleaning lady.”
“It’s okay,” I told her cheerfully. “At least I got one game in.”
She laughed, and I smiled and waved, and we both continued on our separate ways.