Post-move exhaustion, euphoria, no sé que

The movers have come and gone. Nothing broke except a chip-n-dip plate I bought at the Crate & Barrel outlet like four years ago and didn’t use much. I miss Crate & Barrel outlet.

I got really stressed when they arrived yesterday morning, because I was positive nothing would fit, we’d have an ugly cluttered house, etc. But then I told myself to take three deep breaths and deal with it.

And it was fine. Luckily we have a storage space on the roof. Used it to put the extra stemware, my bags of extra fabric (will get around to sewing pillows someday), ugly post-modern CD racks from 1999, etc. I’ve already unpacked the kitchen — my pantry AND my half-eaten chocolate bar arrived intact! — and put the plates and bowls away. It’s all going to be fine. I’m not too worried anymore. (Well, kind of worried…. where in the hell am I going to put that rolling kitchen cart?) But we’ll figure it out. If I have a cluttered kitchen, so what. Everyone has a cluttered kitchen in Mexico. Kitchens are freaking tiny here.

It’s just nice to have our stuff again. I have a proper paring knife, people. A PARING KNIFE. It sliced my apples in such perfect, smooth slices, I almost cried out in ecstasy.

My refrigerator magnets were one of the first things I put up, along with what used to cover our fridge in Dallas: the program from our wedding, last year’s Christmas card from Crayton’s mom, photos of our friends. After drinking a beer and feeling kinda sentimental, I added a new photo — one of me and two of my best girlfriends, giggling at Cosmo’s, holding beers. (Or were they Blasters?)

I miss them, but it’s good. My twenties are over. Now the new journey starts.

Pics of the box-filled apartment to come!