So in early May there was a spatial compression event on Trellis Avenue. You probably heard about it because your living room was suddenly also my living room. Our apartments overlapped by about 60% for nine days while the Spatial Integrity Bureau sorted it out.
We handled it. We were adults. We established a bathroom schedule by noon on day one. You cooked on even days, I cooked on odd days. Your cat learned to tolerate my dog. We watched your shows on your TV which was somehow better than my TV even though they occupied the same physical space. I still don't understand that part.
I'm not writing because of any of that.
I'm writing because you organize your spices alphabetically by flavor profile, not by name, and I've never seen anyone do that before and I can't go back to how I was living. Cumin next to coriander makes no sense once you've experienced cumin next to smoked paprika. You changed me. You changed how I think about shelving.
The Bureau fixed the fold on May 14th. Our apartments separated at 3 AM. I woke up to silence and too much square footage and your cat was gone and I just stood in my kitchen looking at my spice rack like a stranger in my own home.
You left a mug in my cabinet. Or I guess it was always in both our cabinets. Either way I have it and I use it every morning. If you want it back you'll have to come get it.
Unit 4C, Trellis Avenue. I'm home most evenings. The spice rack is still in your order.