We're in. All of our worldly possessions are here, under one roof, with us. All that's left to do now is unpack, set up, clean, plug in, dust, fold, sort, assemble, attach felt feet to, arrange, and make sense of it all. We are exhausted, and excited, and sore in places we didn't know we had. But we're in.
I will, I'm sure, have more profound things to say about all of this at some point. But for now, I can only think in lists, the events of the past two weeks having apparently temporarily fused my cerebral wiring this way.
Please understand: I am grateful to be where I am. I love where I am, and who I am with, and pretty much my entire life right now. My tongue is planted firmly in cheek. With that caveat, I give you the lists that are currently top of mind:
Sentences I never want to hear again:
1. Hey Jenn, which box is the ___________ in?
2. OW!!!! (Induced by stubbed toes, falling assorted debris, incorrect-and-therefore-over-heated-lightbulb burn, skinned knuckles and deceptively-light looking boxes that turn out not to be)
3. Where the #$&@! is the damn tape gun?
4. That will be $X. (where X = approximate GDP of small nation + 12%)
5. "Yes, ma'am, please be there waiting: that delivery and/or installation will be promptly at Y o'clock." (where Y = an apparently "reasonable" window of time ranging anywhere from 4 hours - 3 days)
Sentences I never want to utter again:
1. Hey Kev, where's the box with the ________ in it?
2. OW!!!! (Induced by stubbed toes, falling assorted debris, head-cracking on shelves whose existence had not yet been fully appreciated, skinned knuckles, and deceptively-light looking boxes that turn out not to be)
3. Where the *assorted unlady-like descriptors* did I put the *more assorted unladylike adjectives* tape gun? It was RIGHT HERE.
4. $X? Yes, certainly, let me me get my chequebook.
5. "Yes hi, we were expecting a delivery/installation at Y o'clock?"
Places I'd rather be:
1. Absolutely nowhere.