Clearly, it's been a very busy week. But here are a few highlights:
1. The move went well. OK, it was a struggle, but it happened. A heavy, wet snowfall last Friday delayed the packing of the truck and, as Dan pointed out on his blog, Wingstroke, I wasn't exactly all packed up when he arrived Thursday night to assist with the move.
Moving day began with some shoveling and salt placement. This made the back steps of my apartment only slightly less treacherous. But I have to admit, Dan scaled those steps about 7 times as much as I did that day, so he's the real martyr.
We started the day like this:
And it ended a little something more like this:
But after a quick cry and a moment of calm for my Chicago life to flash before my eyes, we were off. And remarkably (according to other couples who have moved) still speaking to each other.
We got in about 11 Saturday night and exhausted. Despite that, we couldn't help but giggle (OK, I giggled, Dan's was more of a manly guffaw) in excitement that we were officially co-habitating. Then we passed out...
2. We made it! Moving day is over! And despite extreme uber super ultra exhaustion the Easter Bunny didn't forget about the Bear!
But, speaking of the Bear, how cute is my new roommate? Seriously! We all had a great time at Easter brunch at my sister's on Sunday, then set to unpacking the truck. Claire was so helpful and took so much joy in handing stuff to Dan from inside the truck and carrying the few things she could carry into the house.
Monday we made pizza together and made a card for Grandma Phyllis, who had sent us an Easter care package. Then she asked... "What fun thing are we doing tomorrow night?" So, the next night she helped me plant the herb garden and sprout grower that I got as a going away present.
On her way to bed, again, "What fun thing are we doing tomorrow night?" So the next night we painted her nails with the nail polish from the Easter Bunny. I hope I can continue to be "fun" in her eyes, and accept that not every night can or will be a "fun night."
3. I started the new job this week, about which I only have great things to say at this point. Isn't the honeymoon phase at a new job great? Before you hear all the drama and gossip and crap that's going around?
As the reporter for a brand new paper, they didn't have an open desk in the newsroom so I have a cubicle over with the ladies of layout, who are really funny and nice. I kind of like being in their area of the building, as I don't have to worry about struggling to hear the person I'm interviewing while sitting next to some loud talker with a hearty laugh. I think it's going to be fun -- they've even already let me in on their group stash of snacks and tea.
It's a bit odd going from my own sizable office to a little cubicle, but I think I'm adjusting quite well. I've got a few weeks to settle into my position covering every beat for two cities, which is a welcome surprise, since the launch of the paper was pushed back 3 weeks.
But so far, so good. I'm really happy to be a reporter again. I feel very at home.
4. In fact, I feel very at home, at my new home. It's no secret that I'm eager and excited to move to a new place at some point this year, as is Dan, but we're doing what we can to combine all of our possessions and make this home as comfortable as possible for the time being.
We had the biggest pile of trash ever to take to the curb last night and we've got the car loaded for donations to the Salvation Army. It's amazing the amount of doubles (and sometimes triples and more) of things you find in your possession after combining the homes of two adults who have lived on their own for years.
For example, we have six cheese graters and three strainers (which would have been 4, but I threw one out in Chicago). We found ourselves with 2 microwaves (mine stays since Dan's was from roughly 1987), three coffee makers, about two dozen plates and three ladles.
What cracks me up about that the most, is remembering the first time I came for a weekend visit here, about a year and a half ago. For lunch that Saturday, Dan made us soup (and by "made" I mean heated up a can of lentil soup on the stove -- it's been proven that he can't cook). As he prepared to dump the soup directly from the pan to the two bowls waiting on the counter, he turned and asked
"What's the best way to get this soup into the bowls?"
"Do you have a ladle?"
"Um... what's a ladle?"
It turns out, he had two. He just didn't know they were there and didn't know what they were.
So, we continue to march our stuff out to the curb or into the car. At this point, each of us has given away many of our belongings, and I admit sometimes it's hard to give away something that's mine, just because it's mine. But really, it's finally starting to sink in that everything is ours now. There is no "mine" and "his."
It's good to be home.
No comments:
Post a Comment