Do you remember long ago

when I said that we’d be moving? Well, finally, after a lengthy delay, an illness or two and a missed connection with the oven repair guy, we have the keys to the new apartment in our grubby little fingers and have actually moved some boxes from one apartment to the other. If you know me, you know which boxes we unpacked first: the books and the kitchen stuff.

I spent the better part of last week in bed with that hideous flu that’s been going around (the fever, the coughing, the sheer exhaustion) and I’m just now beginning to kick it, so I suppose that, yeah, you could use the word “feeble” to describe me if you wanted to. My pride would probably be okay with that.

In between naps and hour-long sessions of knitting while watching Arrested Development, I managed to move some kitchen stuff next door, two canisters at a time. Then I came back and took another nap. And watched some more Arrested Development.

But then my mom and step-dad came over, and between us we packed up the entire kitchen and shuttled it down the hall and unpacked it and oh, my goodness! It (almost) all fit into the actual kitchen! This is more than can be said for our current kitchen.

Tomorrow, we tackle the rest of the place with the help of some really, truly, awesome friends who have been practically begging us to let them help us move (odd, I know). We’ve promised pizza. Actually, if you want some pizza, you could come by around lunchtime and we’d trade you – one slice for every two boxes you move. Sound fair?


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