So, we've settled into a nice place in Temescal, Pockets and I--just down the street from Bakesale Betty and Lanesplitter, so if I get all choked up about Brooklyn, I can saunter down there, eat a ginger cookie or a slice, and surround myself in the emitted warmth of the patrons' Saucony kicks, rectangular glasses, and old-timey bicycles. Otherwise, not much to report. Pockets has begun work, while I sink further into an Al-Bundy-like void of ambition. Three weeks hence I am to report to my job, I'm told.
I share the place with an unruly and extended family of unpacked boxes. Also, we're still perplexed by this whole you-have-to-pay-for-garbage thing--garbage, mind you, that's removed once a week.
We bought a mattress. I'd never considered the economics of mattresses before, but wtf, those things ain't cheap. I mean maybe I'm some sort of naif, but after my car and my computer, that's the most expensive thing I own right now. On the plus side, who knew that having a dishwasher could make you feel like an adult? Oh, and E, jeanmeanie, anonymous in India, jbell, others, we've got an extra bedroom, so when're you visiting?