For the longest time I took the attitude that I wouldn’t try to hard to make my apartment mine because who knew how long I would actually be living there. I’ve thrown all that out the (fifth floor) window this time around because for some reason this place feels real. I don’t really know why that is, but I am pretty sure it has to do with a sense of personal investment (and by that I only partially mean the ridiculous amount of money I had to lay out from the outset).
For whatever reason I’ve actually done more in the three weeks I’ve been living here than I did in the eight years I was living at my old place. I’ve installed a lovely double towel bar and new shower head in the bathroom. I’ve installed a deadbolt and plate on the front door by myself! Look at me! Working with power tools.
Granted, I’ve also managed to royally eff up the drawers on my Ikea kitchen table, but I blame that on Michael Fassbender. (Note to Self: Do not assemble furniture while watching X-Men First Class or any other movie with Fassbender).
As of now, the bedroom is completely painted, though I may revise that if I decide to paint the window casings. This means I can hang pictures from the picture rail this week! Goodbye bare walls!
And in the biggest news of all, the final box has been unpacked. Personally I think that’s an impressive milestone considering I’ve only had two weekends to get most of the unpacking done. I wish I could say I was also completely organized with everything in its place, but c’mon I’m not a miracle worker or a wizard!