Thursday, November 9, 2017

we moved!



How are we already nine days into November? Time is absolutely flying, but for once, I'm not complaining. I don't like to wish time away and I'm all about "living in the now, whatever the season of life, etc." but I have never been so ready for a semester to be over. 

BUT ANYWAY.

The fact that it's November also signifies that...we have officially moved into our new little apartment! For clarification, Ryan and I did not buy...we're still renting. I'm pretty set in not wanting to buy a house together until we're at least engaged, but that's just my personal preference. We also wanted to wait until I know where my Clinical Fellowship (aka my first job as an SLP!) will be before committing ourselves to a specific area. I've always wanted to live in the south Tampa/historic Hyde Park area, so renting for another year or two was the best decision for us to be able to live down here (because the market down here is pricy AF).

Just to be super transparent here: when we first got the keys and walked into the empty apartment together last weekend, I cried. And not in a happy way.

When I initially saw the apartment (without Ryan), someone was still living in it. It was cozy and lived-in looking, with beige walls and a floral shower curtain - the tenant's personality was displayed in every corner. I fell in love with the white french doors to the bedroom, crown and floor moulding, and just the overall historic charm. When we walked into the same apartment with nothing in it, it felt lifeless. The property managers repainted the walls gray (which I was pissed at first, but now I love it). It felt so tiny, I could hear everyone around us, and I already missed our old apartment. This was also Ryan's first time visiting the apartment (he took my word for it when I saw it a few months ago, and blindly signed the lease). He walked around slowly, examining every room, every crevice, every inch. It should also be noted that, as he did so, he had to tilt his head a bit to get into each doorway (he's 6'8, so he's used to that, but still...).

I asked if he liked it approximately 80 times and he kept saying "yes, yes, it's just different."

It was a Wednesday, and he was on his lunch break. Before heading back to work, I signaled for him to sit down on the bare wood floor with me. We sat there and looked around and I asked, "do you hate it?"

"No."

"Do you love it?" I asked.

"Not yet."

He assured me that everything was going to be fine, that it was going to be great, that it was just a big change for both of us. But I was on day two of my period, and feeling pretty run down from school, and feeling the anticipation of the upcoming moving weekend so you know...I cried by myself anyway. 

Thankfully that stage lasted only an hour or two, and by the weekend, my feelings changed entirely. As you might expect, once all of our stuff was unpacked and loaded into the new place, I felt astronomically better. It started to feel like home, even with 323487 boxes lying around.

Saturday night, after a long day of moving (and a beautiful soul picking up my shift at work), we walked to dinner. I've never been so excited to walk anywhere in my whole life. The next night, my parents brought our dogs back, and then we walked to dinner again. I've been taking the dogs on 1-2 mile walks every day because the neighborhood is so cute. I went on a three mile run yesterday down to Bayshore Boulevard, and made it back in time to go out to dinner with friends right down the road. The concept of living smack dab in the middle of a busy part of town is so foreign to me, but I'm already getting so excited for what's to come.

Needless to say, I feel a little silly about being relatively overdramatic on that first day. But it happens to all of us, right? The place is slowly but surely coming together...if anyone is interested in a little "reveal" when it's all put together, let me know!







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