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withdiamonds at 07:38pm on 11/06/2014
withdiamonds at 07:38pm on 11/06/2014Is it weird to be filled with rage when I go to the grocery store because nothing is in the same place as it is in my grocery store in Pittsburgh? It's the same chain, but man, nothing makes sense. Is that rage a sign that maybe I was a little ambiguous about moving? IF I BROUGHT MY ONW BAGS, DOES THAT MEAN NO, I DON'T WANT EVERY LITTLE THING TUCKED INTO A PLASTIC BAG, TOO?
And omg, the woman bagging my groceries has Down's, so of course I wasn't mad at her. But going to the store shouldn't make me angry to the point of tears because I can't figure out WHERE THE FUCK THEY'RE HIDING THE VINEGAR.
Ahem. Yes, I'm happy to be here in C'bus, why do you ask? Piece of cake. Doesn't bother me at all that there's still a basement full of boxes to unpack and they're apparently FILLED WITH CENTIPEDES. At least we've finally cleaned out the old carpet scraps, pieces of cardboard, dirty sheets, old window screens, gross swings for the old swing set, broken cabinets, rusted fire pits, odd pieces of cable, and parts to the sprinkler system that's no longer hooked up.
Seriously, that does help a lot. Here's how it all makes me feel:
When we moved in, the kitchen was old and brown, brown, brown. We replaced the white, rusty appliance before we even moved in. Then Ashley came to town, stayed a week, and used her recently developed talent for carpentry and renovation to help me paint the cabinets and put glass in some of the doors. She's a miracle, and is spending a week here in July to do the same to the basement.
Before:
After:
The cabinets are still old and beat up, the countertop is cracked and coming off on one corner, and the sinks are some gross white material, but it's now an awesome kitchen and makes me happy every day.
Really, this is a great house, and I don't mean to make it sound like it isn't. The previous owners just didn't leave it in very good shape, is all. We'll get there.
I'll leave you with Brunch With Sebby
And omg, the woman bagging my groceries has Down's, so of course I wasn't mad at her. But going to the store shouldn't make me angry to the point of tears because I can't figure out WHERE THE FUCK THEY'RE HIDING THE VINEGAR.
Ahem. Yes, I'm happy to be here in C'bus, why do you ask? Piece of cake. Doesn't bother me at all that there's still a basement full of boxes to unpack and they're apparently FILLED WITH CENTIPEDES. At least we've finally cleaned out the old carpet scraps, pieces of cardboard, dirty sheets, old window screens, gross swings for the old swing set, broken cabinets, rusted fire pits, odd pieces of cable, and parts to the sprinkler system that's no longer hooked up.
Seriously, that does help a lot. Here's how it all makes me feel:
When we moved in, the kitchen was old and brown, brown, brown. We replaced the white, rusty appliance before we even moved in. Then Ashley came to town, stayed a week, and used her recently developed talent for carpentry and renovation to help me paint the cabinets and put glass in some of the doors. She's a miracle, and is spending a week here in July to do the same to the basement.
Before:
After:
The cabinets are still old and beat up, the countertop is cracked and coming off on one corner, and the sinks are some gross white material, but it's now an awesome kitchen and makes me happy every day.
Really, this is a great house, and I don't mean to make it sound like it isn't. The previous owners just didn't leave it in very good shape, is all. We'll get there.
I'll leave you with Brunch With Sebby