The Boy I Currently Like is ... mostly? in his new apartment. Well, he switched the cable/phone/interwebs and is sleeping there now. I think last night might have been his first night there. I forgot to ask, though.
I'd been dying to see the new place since he'd first told me about it. It sounded really great and reality definitely lived up to his description. I love it. And now I'm in that weird place I always go to when I see someone's new apartment as I'm helping move or something. I always end up so totally jealous and hating my own apartment. The whole newness and unlimited potential of a new apartment is probably especially striking in this instance. Knowing what The Boy is moving from just make this new place seem so. fucking. great.
He has a lot of work to do, yet. I mean, we slept on the floor last night. I think the floor was actually slightly more comfortable than his shitty futon. That may be because he let me sleep on the side of the sleeping bag with the padding under it. How terribly fucking chivalrous of him, no?
So I'm back home and looking around this place feeling like I live in a dump. It doesn't help that this place is cluttered as fuck and the sun coming in the windows earlier this afternoon illustrated the dire need for dusting. I'll get over it soon enough. For Christ's sake, when The Boy was describing what he wanted in a new abode, he kept saying "like yours" after most features. I'll get the love back. I just need to tidy up a bit and it'll all be fine. Besides, I've not helped him at all with the moving yet. I'm sure after Tuesday I'll be reminded about the good reasons not to move.
I suppose I could be tidying while I'm fucking around in the kitchen. That kind of seems like a lot of extra work, though. I've been obsessed with cooking and baking all weekend. Right now I have a quiche in the oven to take to work for breakfast this week and then later I'll be making my lunch for the week. Yesterday I made muffins that didn't cook on the inside. I have no idea how I fucked up. I've made them a few times with no problems. Also, I was sober. So I can't blame the booze for this kitchen disappointment.
Friday night I made black beans to eat in burritos and on tostadas. I also made carrot bars. I'm still trying to get through a ton of the shit from my mom's garden. If only I had an extra freezer. Or even a normal-sized freezer. Another reason to hate my apartment -- my stupid smaller appliances.
Ooooh. There goes the timer. Gotta run.