I have been moving carloads full of boxes for days. Days. And still all I have moved is my book collection, and a few other odds and ends. The books are finally done as of today except for a small handful I’m leaving myself to read at my current apartment until it’s time to move to the new house. But now there is a giant mountain of books in the new house awaiting bookshelves, and the sheer size of the mountain is a little frightening. Especially knowing that I have already given away or sold about fifty books, so this is just 500 or so that I can’t bear to part with. Next time I go over I may have to take pictures of the book mountain to shame myself with next time I try to go on a book-buying spree. Because the books, they are taking over the new house.

Which I suppose is a roundabout way of saying that we signed the lease on the house we both really loved, and have been busily fixing it up and starting to move things over for the past week or so. We haven’t gotten so far as to actually have furniture, but we have books and a recording studio, and within the next few days we will have at least one cat, and who needs furniture when you have books and electronics and cats? (Though this philosophy can perhaps be taken too far. We came perilously close this evening to convincing ourselves that it made perfect sense to use the money we would otherwise spend on all our furniture, and instead just buy a plasma TV and two sleeping bags.)

I expect the next month or so is going to be very hectic as I try to fix that place up while still living here, and then finally move the last of my things over there, so I don’t know how much I’ll be writing. But it’s possible that I’ll actually be writing a lot because I’m really enjoying gushing about the house to anyone who will listen. Unfortunately, by the time we finish one of these evenings of lugging boxes and installing curtains and new thermostats and whatnot, I keep finding myself too tired and sore to do anything so involved as actually writing a journal entry. I’m pretty much firing off a couple of emails, grabbing a snack, flopping onto the couch to give the cats some love and watch a little TV, and then collapsing into bed to sleep the deep dreamless sleep of the girl who has trudged up and down every aisle at the Home Depot and then worn herself out scrubbing a bathroom into sparkling cleanliness.

We’re having a lot of fun moving things and planning furniture arrangements and sitting on the bare living room floor eating takeout, and it’s wonderful, just a bit exhausting. And frustrating knowing that for various reasons I won’t be able to actually start living there for at least another couple of weeks, probably more like a month. It already feels like home and I’m dying to move in properly. Between waiting to move in and waiting for my trip to D.C. at the end of the month, I’m really dying for the end of April to hurry up and get here. I think it may be a very long month. At least I can spend the intervening time learning how to grow plants in what I hope will be a pretty little backyard once I get the overgrowth cleared away, and maybe in planters out front.