We (me and the sig.o., of course) are in the process of moving.
I hate moving. Half my stuff is here. Half my stuff is there. And moving is so.expensive! We need to get new this and new that, while meanwhile getting rid of old this and old that. It's a silly process and one that mostly just annoys me, but I'm excited to have it all out of the way.
When we were on the prowl for a new apartment, it wasn't really clear if I'd have a job by moving time so we found a place that was a little less expensive than our current location and without a few of the cushiony amenities that we've come to enjoy. Coincidentally, I now have a job and my partner is applying for jobs as well. Though it's always good to be prepared for the worst, I'm regretting just a little that we didn't have more faith in us. The thing is, we aren't convinced this new place will be so great and that's a little disappointing. As if moving weren't stressful enough, it feels like there's a little extra stress since we aren't as pumped about the actual apartment as we could be. My hope is that the place grows on us enough that we can stay there for longer than a year. I'm soSO tired of moving. All the time.
Once, I tortured myself into counting the number of times I've moved since August of 2006. Ten times. TEN TIMES! Argh.