Helloooooo Club 1312

We moved. Every piece of furniture and every box we lifted and hauled ourselves. That may not sound all that bad to most people but those people haven't tried to lift our 800lb television and the just as bad armoire that it goes in.

We managed to get everything done with minimal amounts of bickering. I consider a move where at the end you don't hate your spouse to be a success. Did we have varying opinions about where important items go? Sure we did. That argument about where exactly the silverware should go in the kitchen was totally called-for. And let us never speak of the Furniture Placement Incident. Suffice it to say, I am completely nutty butters and Thomas should be considered a Saint for having to deal with me and my OCD/I am a woman and I like things to match/I cannot mentally handle that the living room window is UN-FUCKING-EVEN on the living room wall.

I hate moving.

We are unpacked and settling in nicely. Both of us are enjoying our much MUCH shorter commutes to work and the dogs are enjoying the fact that there are new smells EVERYWHERE and they MUST be smelled this damn INSTANT. I swear their nostrils are working overtime right now.

I have to admit, this apartment is kinda creeping me out. I have yet to hear any neighbors. Not a child screaming, or snoring, or even a door slamming. It's like we live in a house! But without the backyard and the right to put pink flamingos in the front yard.

This apartment and it's spaciousness is downright glorious. We have ROOM. Almost more room than we know what to do with. And what do we need to do to fill up all that extra space? You guessed it. We need to go furniture shopping. I cannot WAIT for that argument.