I became officially all moved in at 11:45am yesterday. That’s when the Internet and cable were hooked up and I finally got my chance to name a wireless network something that should both amaze and terrify the neighbors (although I can’t tell you guys what it is, since Graham is convinced that someone will find/murder me based on this and any other detail I share on the Internet). There are but three details left undone:
1. We haven’t unpacked our books. Graham and I are both readers, which means that if you combine the books we both own, we need at least 2.5 times the bookshelf space we currently have. If we don’t want to look like hoarders and/or attract silverfish, we might as well wait until we get one big, space-appropriate shelf before we unpack our books.
2. I forgot the wireless router from the old apartment. Charter says I have to turn it into a local office instead of just leaving it there for the neighbors to get their own service, which makes perfect sense in the land of Bullshit Corporations Who Actively Hate Their Customers and, If Their Policies Are Any Indication, Probably Jerk Off to Dirty German Porn at Work. This means that I have to go by the old apartment to pick it up on Thursday and then put it in the closet over here and forget all about it for something like four months.
3. I lost my iPod cord. I remember packing it, I just can’t remember where and, considering that everything but the books has been unpacked, I assume it was meant to be a sacrifice to the gods of moving.
I’m still completely in love with this place, by the way. Yes, there is an issue with the temperamental garage door opener and the oven pissed me off and Graham had to make a late night run to Home Depot to get a faucet adaptor before I had a nervous breakdown over the dishwasher, but MY TOILET FLUSHES WITH A BUTTON INSTEAD OF A HANDLE. Yes! I know! There are two buttons on the top! I don’t know how they’re different or what happens when I press the smaller one, but dudes! A button! It’s so fancy!
There’s something about a new place that makes me feel all shiny and new again, and not just because the place is mostly shiny and new (to me). It’s another chance to be cleaner and more organized, and to put things in one place from the beginning and keep them there until the end. Graham and I have both promised to be less gross in this place. It’s not that we’re gross, either, but there’s something about living alone that allows you to live quite happily in your own filth. Being less gross in this place isn’t really that much of a stretch for me; I might not be very competitive in some aspects of my life – Wii bowling, choosing parking spots, drinking games – but when it comes to out-working people in my office or out-cleaning/having my shit together the person I live with, I am a champ. It’s one of the few things I learned about being married. In addition to marriage being a terrible idea, I mean.
Which was probably the most valuable lesson, but only a little bit applicable to this situation.