Exactly one week ago I handed over my apartment keys and became a house dweller. And not just a dweller. I became an owner. Actually, I've been an owner since the 24th of March, but I finally got everything moved. Yay! It's been absolutely wonderful. Although . . . it's been a lot of work! I'm still nowhere near being unpacked. Mostly I've been focusing on the kitchen, tearing up all the old nasty contact paper that the previous owners had laid down and trying to put my own down. Of course, I'm super-engineering-nerdy about it and have my measuring tape out. I have a little plastic scraper that I'm using to make it all smooth and I've been careful to make sure corners dovetail perfectly. In other words, I'm taking a long time to do it! I just take comfort in the fact that once it's done I shouldn't have to worry about it for a while . . .
Today I also did something that really made me feel like a homeowner: I mowed the lawn. Ah the joys of being in charge of the upkeep yourself instead of having a maintenance man . . . still, it's completely worth it! No more noisy, smoking neighbors. No more 45-minute drive home from work (only about 10 now). Just me and my glorious house . . . that needs a lot of TLC! :)
So, for a sort of funny story to finish up the post . . . A few weeks ago at Lit (my Sunday evening activity), I was telling the girls that my birthday was coming up. One of the girls asked if I was turning 25 and when I laughed, she upped her guess to 27. All the girls were quite amazed when I said I was turning only 22. I'm actually the youngest person in the group. Anyway, after I left, I was thinking about the whole experience and I thought, "I hope they think I'm that old because I act mature, not because I look mature. I don't want to be 40 and everyone thinking I I'm 60!" Anyway, yesterday I visited a new church. Some ladies were talking to me afterwards and were quite surprised to find out I worked. One lady said she thought I looked like a college kid. Fair enough, since I should theoretically still be in college, but another lady chimed in and said "Yeah, I though you were a teenager!" !!!!! I guess I can't win!!!
Have a wonderful day! :D
Well I am glad you are more of a neat freak than when you were growing up. Now that the kitchen is finished you can assemble the pizza box chair and end table to round out your pad.
ReplyDeleteI can't wait to see the place... speaking of which, how is labor day weekend? If that works out you might get to see Logan too...
ReplyDeleteDo you know what "short-listed" means? I'm assuming that I've made it from the long applicant list to the shorter interview list... but need she use the strange wording? Isn't that implied? So maybe my definition is off. Thanks for the blogger comment help!
ReplyDelete-when your hair is longer I think younger, but when it is shorter, I think older for you... my mom says the same about me too.