Anyway. As I was saying, if you follow me on Insta (as those of us cool kids call it), you know that we closed on our home in Dallas two days ago.
I was so happy about this, that I forced the Husband to buy an air mattress, a few pillows, lots of diet coke, and to sleep on the floor in our new house with me. Sadly, that night spent in an empty, unfurnished home was probably the best night's sleep I have had since mid-December.
We built this home, which is a first for us. Learned a lot about how crazy fun it is to pick out every nook and cranny of your new home. I think the Husband wanted to die about 30 minutes into the five-hour design meeting. Too much talk of crown moldings, lighting, and colors for his taste. But I'm just giddy.
Nobody else's yucky hair will be clogged in our drains. Nobody's nasty food has sat in the pantry. There is no massive wish list of things I want to change. It's only my yucky hair that will clog the drains! My nasty food in the pantry!
I can't wait.
Unfortunately, I have to. Forty days and 40 nights more in the apartment in the ghetto before I get to enjoy the loveliness of my own choosing.
It feels symbolic to me, these 40 days. I imagine it's much like how Noah felt on that first day aboard the ark. He was probably really hoping his time aboard that ark would be of short duration, that he could handle the cramped quarters, and that his wife would not complain too loudly.
These last 40 days are my ark. Slogging it out in cramped quarters, wishing the days would go faster, and hoping and praying life will be good on the other side of this journey. I bet Noah's animals didn't smell of Axe, B.O., and the Abercrombie store - all at once. And at least he got to go to the beach at the end of his forty days.
Internets, enjoy the sneak peek at my new home. Any with diet coke in hand are welcome to come visit. (Obviously, we will be putting knobs on all the cabinet doors and we'll fill it with furniture. But you get the general idea.)