I keep going back and forth between elation and disbelief (okay, there's a little bit of anxiety mixed in to give the cocktail a little something extra) about the fact that we're moving next weekend.
I'm indescribably excited to do the moving in part - setting everything up the way I want it, plotting out the perfect ways to maximize space, meanwhile creating a cozy and welcoming home. Actually, I don't think "cozy" will ever be a problem in a city apartment. I'm psyched for a trip to IKEA because new furniture is fun and I always enjoy the feeling of accomplishment I get from constructing something. I can't wait to make our first dinner there, then maybe sit back on our new couch and watch a movie for the first time in months. That sounds like a pretty nice way to spend Valentines day after all, doesn't it?
I'm also a little anxious, not only because of the pile of boxes in my home, but also because of all the things that aren't yet in boxes. I'm dreading packing up my dishes and cookware, and I'll delay it as long as possible, but inevitably, it must occur. Between the normal new apartment expenses (in this case 2.5 months rent to move in) and the new couch, new desk, and possible kitchen extension (more on that next week), February is looking to be an expensive month. We can handle it, but the thought of multiple days of carry-out, followed by a decadent (read: Expensive) V-Day dinner at Horizons, is a little daunting and not an expense I'm looking forward to, so I'm hoping to wait as far into next week as possible before packing up.
We've already begun the Boring Dinners part of preparing to move, which is one of the reasons I skipped last night. I made Tuscan White Bean Pizza from Vegan on the Cheap and it really wasn't very attractive, so I didn't take any pictures. I'll share one from last time, though, because it was a positively sexy pizza last time I made it.
We almost repeated the pizza theme tonight. After waiting in cold, gusty wind that wanted to knock me over while I waited for 30 minutes for my train to take me home tonight, I [obviously] got home a bit later than usual. I almost stopped at Blackbird, but then I remembered what our "menu" will look like next week and kept going. Instead of take-out, we had leftover Pasta Jambalaya.
Mister was completely okay with that, though. I should have realized it was a favorite when he had three servings the other night and enthusiastically pulled the leftovers out of the fridge for me while I took off my coat.