Well, illness foiled my weekend plans to finish painting in the house.

I caught whatever Paul had the week before last. I felt it coming on Tuesday, a day I already had off and was planning to use to paint some ugly wood paneling. I knew going ahead with the painting plan probably wasn’t a great idea, but I didn’t want to lose the day, so I did it anyway. And I was pretty much fine until the end of the day, when we finished up and I was exhausted and achey. I did use the house’s shower for the first time, though, which was great. Hot water is so unreliable at the apartment anymore that I spent a lot of time just standing there in the house.

I called off work Wednesday, slept in, lounged around the apartment, then went back to the house in the evening for a bubble bath. I thought maybe I’d be able to go to work Thursday, but I felt pretty shitty in the evening and when my alarm went off in the morning, so I called off again and spent Thursday much the same as Wednesday, including another bubble bath. Let me tell you, it’s worth it. Hot, relaxing, quiet, with the added bonus of being really, really satisfied that we own it.

I did go to work Friday and hoped to feel up to finishing the painting over the weekend, but I could tell Saturday wasn’t gonna happen, and Sunday wasn’t much of an improvement. It’s frustrating. I don’t want to overdo it and make myself feel worse so I’m being patient, but man, I just want to get these little improvements done so we can start really moving in. I’ve been taking small bags and boxes every time I go over, mostly of books these past few trips, and the plan is to slowly clean out the apartment and move things over and go through them and organize them, but man, it’s making me antsy.

On the one hand, we’ve gotten really apathetic with apartment upkeep, knowing that we’re just gonna be packing it all up, but we also have the same issues of lack of space. I’ve hauled over a few small stacks of books and you’d never know when you walk into the apartment. But the thing, too, is it’s getting harder and harder to leave the house, even if I’m just there with my Lush bath melts (I smelled so good and my skin was so soft for those couple days, just so everyone’s aware). There’s nothing there, other than books and a box of wedding cards, yet I don’t want to come back to the apartment. I mean, at the same time, the fact that there is nothing at the house is what keeps me from staying put. I have to come back to eat, sleep, and entertain myself, but the second I have an excuse to keep me there, I know that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna end up spending a night on the floor there one of these days, and I’m gonna love it.

In the meantime, I guess I’ll see how the next few days go. I have Friday off, and my mom might be coming out again to help with whatever I need her for, so maybe that’ll be finishing the painting, maybe it’ll be taking down ugly wallpaper in the kitchen. We’ll see. One way or another, I’m really hoping to get back to making progress this weekend, rather than being stuck.


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