After years (somewhere around 24 of them) of living in the country, I am writing this post from my new apartment… in the city.

Before you ask (because I knew you were going to) it took us 45 minutes to pack, 45 minutes to load the car, and 5 hours to get everything moved in and in tip-top shape. You may be shocked by our skills.  Be shocked no more: we just don’t really own anything but clothing.  This is something Marta hadn’t realized until she started packing and ended with 6 bags of clothes and 1 box of personal belongings. She was so shocked that she stood there holding the box with her mouth hanging open for nearly a whole minute. I should have taken a picture. Sorry.

Speaking of pictures…. the answer is NO. We did not take any pictures of the moving process, nor do we have pictures of the finished product. This was mostly because neither of us thought about it, and partly because the index finger on my left hand is very bruised and I couldn’t face the pain. (I do not know where the bruise came from, though Marta RN took one look at it and announced “hmm… hematoma”.  I don’t really know what that means, but it makes me feel better to have a diagnosis).

(Let me pause here to announce that Marta and I have just made our first pot of coffee in our apartment. It smells delicious and we are drinking it out of matching mugs. We are so cool)

Grocery shopping was a blast. We walked though every isle in the food section and found lots of deals. In case you were wondering, whole wheat pasta is on sale right now at Meijer. We were both so hungry by that point (let’s face it, a bag of chips is not enough for lunch) that just about everything looked delicious and neither of us could finish our sentences.  Dinner FINALLY happened at 6:30, and a watched pot does boil (it just takes its precious little time).

We are very grateful that Dad came out to help us get the furniture into the apartment. It is very nice. We have comfortable seating for ten (as long as 7 of you don’t mind the floor…).  Overall, it’s been a great day. We spent some time praying for the apartment and planning future parties, flushed the toilet, and got the internet hooked up (all the necessities).  We have already named our upstairs neighbor (who we have yet to meet) we call him/her/them Mel… and they have been pretty quiet all day, which is a good thing.

You may not know about this, but I have kind of a hard time with change. (I know, it’s a shocker… especially when you realize that this is my 10th move in 4 years).  I’m very grateful to have such a wonderful roommate and a good God who takes care of me. So, as the sounds of the city put me to sleep, I know that I can rest in His grace.

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