Moving into the Mission

A friend of mine from spinning class, Liz, finally made her dream come true and bought an apartment in the Mission. I really love her a ton, so I offered to help her with the move, and that’s how I spent my usually sacred selfish Saturday.

We moved from the Northern reaches of Daly City. The neighborhood was mostly minority, with the black families living with their backs to the freeway, while the more affluent Asians dominated the upper reaches. Liz’s sister-in-law pretended we were not there, almost refusing to say hello. We packed the truck within an hour and disappeared into Liz’s new digs in the Mission.

I was expecting a lot, but not the gorgeous building we set our eyes on. I parked the car in what is currently still a somewhat seedy neighborhood only ot witness a brand new yuppie palace replete with all the requisite encoutrements: parking, hardwood floors (these, though, looked more like laminate), marble bathrooms.

Liz has a two bedroom unit on the second floor. She recruited us friends from the gym to help her, and I believe we did a good job, moving everything in and out within three hours. Then we visited the roof area and enjoyed a gorgeous San Francisco summer day.

I was thrilled at her good fortune. One of those moments when you know something good is happening to someone that really deserve it – and the only reservation you have is that it seems not to be happening to you.

I was elated when I saw that the apartment was perfectly appointed, with wonderful appliances, sizeable rooms, and a perfect layout. I was as happy for Liz as I would be if my house in Hawaii ever got finished. Even more, as it were, since for Liz it was all about getting the mortgage – once she did, moving in was a formality.

It’s great when good people have good things happen to them!