Guys, I am loving our new apartment.

Did I say “loving”? Because I mean LOVING in bold caps.

We let ourselves in for the first time Wednesday morning before I went to work. I had readied my emotions for disappointment, because I hadn’t seen the place for a few months and didn’t trust that my memory of it and all its wonderful attributes was faithful.

But guess what? Everything was better than I remembered.

That night, an awesome crowd of friends came to our old place and we moved over a minivan load of stuff we didn’t want the movers (scheduled to come Friday) dealing with: guitars and other instruments, camera stuff, a cooler of miscellaneous food, our laundry hampers, etc.

I did a load of laundry our very first night there–that Wednesday night–, and my soul rejoiced. After years of dragging pounds upon pounds of laundry to an overheated laundromat that played the Song of Insanity and drove us to distraction, now I can just pop up the hall, put in a load, and go do something completely different. Laundry is no longer something that needs to be apportioned a 3-hour block all to itself: I am free to multitask.

The next morning, after a rough night on the blow-up mattress tossing and turning as I got used to the new nighttime sounds of the place, I got up before my husband (a rare occurrence) and padded down the hall to the kitchen. I heated up some water and creamer and stirred in some Nescafe instant coffee (the coffee maker still being in a box somewhere). The morning had dawned overcast, and rain was starting to beat down on the sidewalks outside. I watched a woman in a yellow poncho and a man in a dark grey suit make their way down the sidewalk at clipped paces, umbrellas being tugged back and forth by the wind, knowing I would soon be joining them in the wet outside. As I stood in the darkened, empty living room with the hot coffee warming my palms, feeling the smooth hardwood under my bare feet, I felt the happiness surge in my heart and quietly pool there. This is our space . . . this is where I’ll be spending my maternity leave with my daughter. This is where we will cook for friends, watch episodes of Foyle’s War, snuggle on the couch, welcome our families.

The empty space was full of promise, and I was content.

I have pictures of the empty apartment to share with you guys soon (to be followed by pictures of the space once we’re fully moved in), but I’ve been far from ready to sit down and mess with pictures, Photoshop, or the like. We have a lot of work ahead of us unpacking and situating and going to Ikea for the shopping trip of the century, so just know that at some point I will  sit my butt down and put together a nice update with all the visuals.

But that day is not today.

In the meantime, happy Monday!